Swashbuckled
by mysticxf
Summary: Neverland couldn't possibly be real, could it? The Doctor and Clara soon find out when the Tardis is inexplicably pulled into a cloud of fairy dust and find Peter Pan and Captain Hook aren't exactly what they'd expected. (Written during the first several episodes of S3 OUAT. Whouffle / Captain Swan)
1. Chapter 1

"But it's anti-grav!"

They were doing their dance around the Tardis, the Doctor reaching out to slap a lever or push a button, or toggle a knob, while Clara moved along with her arms crossed over her chest. It was actually good exercise, she thought with a small upward tug of her lips, because they needed it with all the running they normally did. And she knew if she stopped and he gave her those big puppy dog eyes, she would relent and let him take her to a planet encased in what he assured her was a thick sheet of futuristic plastic that couldn't be shattered and had such a light gravitational pull that they could fly.

_Legitimately fly_.

And Clara wasn't sure she liked the idea because she'd known 'unbreakable' things and she knew they were absolutely breakable. What if a ship crashed into that shell and suddenly they were jettisoned into space? He might be fine with his alien lungs and his spaceship, but Clara would be imploded and scattered to the stars and the thought made her shudder as she turned, feet deftly moving her backwards away from him in a practiced circle around the console.

"You said we'd visit Space Vegas months ago… I've yet to see it. Saw a submarine. Saw an Ice Warrior and almost had my head ripped off, but no Space Vegas," she pointed, twirling back around and dropping her arms at her sides.

"But Clara, we could fly – come on, humans are practically programmed to want to fly."

"Not this human," she laughed.

He pointed, mouth opening in frustration before he huffed, "Peter Pan, Mary Poppins… Quidditch!"

"Stories," she reminded.

"Everything becomes a story… _eventually_," he pointed out.

"Not me popping off into space."

"We could tether," he suggested.

She turned, "I'm not tethering to you."

He growled, "Tether to the ground."

"What'd be the point?"

With a wag of his finger, he smiled, "Exactly…" then he raised both arms, "Clara, _flying_!"

"Not a flyer."

"We went on a plane! First date… _day_… we were on a plane."

"And I was none too thrilled."

"But we flew."

"I was dragged, technically," she muttered.

His footsteps stopped as he stated, "We're flying now," and he grinned, watching her continue the circle until her eyes popped slightly as she realized she'd been tricked and her own steps faltered.

"But we're flying inside of a space ship," she gestured around.

He grinned, that foolish grin he wore when he knew he'd won as he bent slightly and whispered, "Still flying."

Clara's nose flared slightly as she watched him gloat and she shook her head. "Not going to a planet that's lacking in gravity with a sheet of glass to protect us." And she crossed her arms, literally putting her foot down to accentuate the point, watching his lips press together angrily.

Scoffed at her, he muttered, "Fine," before he turned to the console, sulking and gesturing up at her to declare, "You flew across space on a motorbike in Akhaten…"

She raised her hands, planting them next to him, and glanced up at him to tell him with a feigned pout, "You could drop me back home, go off to your anti-grav planet and risk that invisible dome collapsing."

His mouth dropped open and he assured, "I've told you, that dome is safe! It's been safe for hundreds of years! I would never take you to a planet where your life would be in danger!"

Clara stared at him, smile ready on her lips as he fumbled, watching her eyebrows rise slightly.

"I would never take you _on purpose_ to a planet where your life would be in danger," he corrected with a roll of his eyes as he hit a button with a palm and pulled on a handle.

She nodded, repeating, "Never on purpose."

He suddenly frowned, turning to look at her, "Is that what this is about?"

"What?" She questioned.

The Doctor looked hurt as he asked, "Do you not feel safe?"

"Doctor?"

His brow wrinkled as it knotted with concern. "Traveling with me? I asked you before, if you felt safe – because anything could happen…"

"And I told you I was counting on it," she reminded with a small nod, swallowing roughly because she remembered that day, the way she'd taken pleasure in staring up at him seductively before heading into the Tardis to find something to pull her hair up with. And he hadn't taken the hint. With a sigh, she lightly traced the edge of a button and leaned against the console, shrugging up at him to explain, "Don't mind a thing I can run from, or a catacomb I have to hide in, some unexpected thing… but this is anti-grav – a whole planet of it."

He smiled, "And it's magnificent."

"Could we really fly?" She questioned, watching the way his eyes lit up because he would be getting his way and Clara wondered if he ever didn't, with that stupid hopeful face of his. "I mean, really, actually, fly?"

Straightening acutely, he tilted his head from side to side and offered, "Well, technically, it's not flying, it's floating, but once you get acclimated, you could soar through the skies – minding the birds, which are not terribly adept oddly enough – and it's as close as you can get to actually flying."

"Could we…" she started, "Take baby steps?" Her eyes rose to find his, "Maybe hop about inside of a building? Maybe not letting go of… keeping a hold of… something… before actually flying?"

"Clara Oswald, are you afraid of flying?" He teased.

Her face scrunched as she admitted, "Used to have nightmares about floating off; parents couldn't find me or hear me and I'd wake up in a panic, holding to the bed for dear life."

Reaching over, the Doctor took her hand and smiled, "Never letting go, I promise."

Clara lifted herself off the console, grinning up at him, and nodded, telling him quietly, "Neverland we go."

"Oh, I do love Neverland," the Doctor replied, head falling towards her sideways as he went to working the controls – this time with purpose and an excitement in his every motion that was contagious. "Of course, _that's_ just a story," he trailed before rocketing off into an expanse of techno babble about the controls in front of him as he moved about, smile eager on his face.

She was beginning to get that tingle in her stomach, feeling the Tardis rolling its way through the time vortex and she grabbed hold of the console as they shifted quickly sideways. The Doctor was prancing around her, occasionally hooting and twirling as she laughed. Flying, she considered, obviously his thing.

"So, do they have jetpacks?" She questioned.

He laughed, "Why would they need jetpacks?"

Clara shrugged, bringing her voice higher as the machine around them whirred louder and louder. Actually, _irritatingly louder_, she thought to herself, "If you go off course? Fly too high and can't get down? I dunno, a million different reasons, mostly ending with 'I want to get back to the ground'?"

He smiled, "It's a bit like swimming in the ocean, you just have to point your body to the ground and wave your arms about and you'll get there eventually."

Clara nodded, hands coming up to her ears as she shouted, "Why's she gotten so loud?"

The Doctor was smiling, she could see, but there was something like panic in his eyes as he shifted his screen and tapped at it, glancing at her and shrugging, "_Never on purpose_," he quipped.

"What's gone wrong now?" Clara demanded, hands coming away as she moved to his side, fingers of her left hand reaching out to grip his waist coat to keep from losing her balance.

He let out a nervous laugh and pointed at some gaseous blob on the monitor and told her, "Anomalous cluster of unidentifiable substances."

"Wait," she shook her head, "It's the Tardis – knows everything in the galaxy and she's flustered by a bit of gas in the night sky?"

"Not flustered," he let out another anxious chuckle.

"Doctor?" Clara asked, other hand coming up beside the first and she felt his free hand clamp down at her shoulder, digits gripping tightly to her because he too was having a hard time standing straight.

"Not flustered," he repeated, "Attracted."

The pixels on the screen brightened, bursting with bright emerald and lime hues and Clara found herself fascinated with it momentarily before she glanced sideways at the giant tubing to shout, "Big shiny explosion in the sky and she wants to head into it!"

"I'm not sure if she's got a choice," he told her honestly, hand coming off her to start working at the knobs and he slipped to his left, taking Clara with him, pointing and Clara knowingly yanked on a blue handle, releasing him to continue his dance around the Tardis.

She glared at the Doctor from across the console, "How do you mean she hasn't got a choice?"

"She's flying," he exclaimed.

"Of course she's flying," Clara shouted.

"No," he shook his head, eyes widening, "All main engines are off – she's literally flying."

"Engines off? I can hear them!"

"Those aren't the engines!"

"What are they?"

The Tardis landed with a large bang somewhere beneath their feet, sending them both to the ground with a set of pained grunts. Picking herself up quickly, Clara rushed around to the Doctor's side, helping him stand as they listening to the crashing and sloshing around them. They approached the door and she gripped his waist coat again as his arm came out, protectively keeping her just behind him as they stepped to the door.

"Doctor," Clara whispered, "Why does it sound like the ocean?"

He shook his head and gripped the handle, fingers working at it a moment before he pulled the door open and Clara let out a gasp when a silver hook met the underside of the Doctor's chin, guiding him onto the deck of what she could easily tell was a pirate ship. She didn't let go though, simply held on and slipped out of the Tardis just behind the Doctor as she watched the grin flicker over the man's face in front of them.

"Love a stowaway," the pirate told him.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor lifted his chin slightly, but Hook twisted the metal, enjoying the way it made the green eyes widen slightly until he heard the blonde shouting his name from the helm. He smiled up at her, raising his free arm to shout, "Bit of a situation, love."

"Bit of a situation up here," she barked back, adding, "And don't call me _love_."

Hook turned to the Doctor and shrugged. "Sorry, mate," he allowed before quickly shifting the hook away and then bringing it down roughly against the side of his head, knocking him unconscious and sending him sprawling down onto the deck.

Clara shouted and Hook turned swiftly, as though he hadn't noticed her before and he stared, wide eyed, and then he grinned as she looked up at him from where she'd fallen to her knees beside the Doctor, "What'd you do that for?" she bellowed.

"Containment," he replied, looking her over once with another small smirk before charging up to the helm to Emma's side to take the wheel from her, hook latching securely around one of the wooden pegs.

Emma glanced at the pair below, just next to the blue box that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and she understood his concern, but she lamented anyways, "You didn't have to do that, they don't actually seem like a threat."

He glanced sideways at her, "When you've sailed the open waters for as long as I have and tangled with the magic of Neverland for more than a few days, I'll let you make the decisions about who's a threat and who isn't, _Emma_." Then he dropped his voice, "Besides, blue box magically appears? Giant man, pixie-ish woman? What's to trust?"

She snorted, "You imply there's some special combination of factors in a person that would lead you to trust them. Find that hard to believe."

Hook turned and watched her a moment before smiling mysteriously and looking back out over the ocean before him, spotting what Emma had been concerned about and he laughed, "It's just a whirlpool," he surmised.

"Just a whirlpool?" Clara asked from beside them and both Hook and Emma turned quickly, neither having heard her approach.

"How…" Emma started.

Hook pointed, "Pixie."

"Not a pixie," Clara barked before gesturing out, "Just a whirlpool? Shouldn't we be, I dunno, trying to get around it?"

"No, pet," he smiled down at her as she frowned. "We're going into it."

"Into it?" Emma and Clara both shouted.

Raising his hooked hand, he asked Emma, "How'd'you expect us to get back to Neverland?"

"Back?" Clara questioned with a shake of her head, "Back? Wait, Neverland," she said, eyes landing on the silver metal turning the wheel, "Hook. Captain Hook?" Then she glanced about. "Jolly Roger?" And she looked at Emma before making a face, "Not quite sure where you fit into this story."

Emma half smiled and then turned her attention back to Hook to ask quietly, "Thought you said the bag of pixie dust on the ship would magically float us back there."

"Figure of speech," he drawled, "There's generally a portal involved and in the ocean, the portal…"

"Wait, pixie dust?" Clara interrupted.

They both turned.

"The Tardis was attracted by it."

"The what?" Emma asked.

"Take it the Tardis is what you call the blue box," Hook assumed with a nod towards the object before steering them away from a rough wave as they approached the outer ring of the whirlpool, "Either way, I suggest you take hold of something – the dead weight on the ground might be a good idea," he gestured to the Doctor.

Clara gave him a look of contempt before she made her way back down the stairs to the main deck to try and move the man closer to the foot of the main mast.

Hook rolled his eyes at her efforts and looked to Emma, "Steer with the current," he told her roughly, moving down to help Clara drag the Doctor before giving her a solemn, "Hold on," and rushing back. "This is why I don't help," he offered Emma upon his return, "Things always get _complicated_."

Emma shifted aside when he shoved and she shouted over the crashing waves, "Then stop offering to help!"

Clenching his jaw, Hook stared into her and barked, "Go help the pixie secure the giant."

She mirrored his stare a moment, but then rushed towards the small woman trying to keep an arm around the man she'd arrived with while holding herself to the mast with the other. Emma frowned and lifted a rope, swinging it around the three of them before tying an awkward knot in front of herself and nodding to Clara, who nodded back appreciatively before the ship lurched to port.

It wasn't like the Tardis travelling, Clara thought to herself. The fluidity of motion replaced by a choppy slapping against the waters beneath them as they turned made her sick to her stomach and she shouted when they started to descend, quicker than anything she'd ever experienced. Emma ordered at her to hold on and she was tempted to scream back that she was trying – _what else would she be doing_ – but the words caught in her throat and escaped in a shriek that surprised even her own ears

And then suddenly they were still.

She hadn't realized she had closed her eyes and when she opened them, the stormy skies had been replaced with twinkling lights and a glowing moon overhead. Clara looked down at the Doctor's head, rested against her chest, and she laughed, glancing up when the rope slackened and Emma moved away with another small nod that signaled to her they were alright. Nudging the rope away from them, Clara palmed the Doctor's cheek and she gave it a series of light taps, calling him and hoping he'd wake because when she said they were to see Neverland, she didn't mean the imaginary _actual_ place and she was quite ready to leave.

The rope suddenly tightened and she glanced up to see Hook roughly pulling at Doctor's arms so he could secure them both to the main mast and Clara shook her head, struggling against the pressure being applied to her body, flattening her into the smooth wood at her side. He muttered an apology and Clara heard Emma call his name again and she watched the concentration on his face and the way his eyes avoided hers as he deftly tied several knots, around and around them, and she found herself stuck, the Doctor pressed too tightly against her, partially holding her to the mast behind them.

"This really isn't necessary," she hissed at Hook.

"Sorry, big blue box – Tardis, is it? – just popping out of thin air? Usually the makings of magic and I'm not entirely trustful of magic," he offered with a patronizing smile before shifting away.

He joined Emma and they watched Clara struggle, occasionally tilting towards the man beside her, whose head fell atop hers, to whisper at him and he might have found it comical, but Hook was concerned. They might have come through another portal, through some other means, and if they had a way in, they might have a way out. He glanced at Emma, who was crossing her arms at his side and looking towards the island in the distance.

"I know what you're thinking," she allowed.

He nodded, because he knew she was thinking it too, "We should cut them free; trust them implicitly without facts." Then he grinned, "I remember once being tied to a tree and interrogated by a feisty blonde."

"She had no choice but to trust you then," Emma told him knowingly. "These two, not giving off the villain vibe."

"There's a vibe?" Hook asked.

Emma stepped away from him and moved towards where Clara was calling the Doctor and begging him to wake up, but Emma knew the man might be out of it for some time more and she got the impression he was the one who wore the pants in this relationship. Everything about him was odd whereas the woman? The most normal human being she'd ever laid eyes on, and also filled with genuine fear and confusion about her situation.

"He won't let me untie you," Emma told her quietly when she came to stand just in front of her, watching her struggle slightly as the Doctor's head weighed on hers.

Clara huffed, "Pirates have kinks, I suppose."

Emma managed a smile. "Where did you come from?"

There was a moment's hesitation before Clara told her bluntly, "Wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"We just went through a whirlpool to Neverland," she offered, then challenged, "Try me."

Staring a moment, Clara pressed her lips together in a bit of understanding and sighed, "Blue box? It's his ship. Travels through space and time and we were just on Hoth…"

"Star Wars Hoth?" Emma interrupted.

Clara shook her head, "No, actual Hoth. Apparently Peter Pan real; Star Wars not so much. Hoth was actually quite hoth… hot. Saved the people from some sort of sun demons and were on our way to a planet with a very low gravitational field when we got sucked in by the pixie dust."

Pointing, Emma repeated, "So, space ship."

"Basically, yeah," Clara sighed, nudging the Doctor's head up.

The Tardis hummed.

Emma watched it a moment and glanced up at Hook before looking back to Clara. As ridiculous as her words were, they were honest and she rubbed at her forehead. "What's your name?"

"Clara," she told her quickly, "And he's the Doctor."

"Doctor of what?"

"Just," Clara sighed, "Just the Doctor." Then she nodded, "Suppose you're not Wendy."

Emma chuckled before admitting, "Emma." Then she looked out to Neverland, "And we've been here before, not long ago – had to save my son, Henry, but Peter laid one last trap in a sprinkle of pixie dust… he's on that island somewhere."

"Peter Pan, laying a trap?" Clara asked with a shake of her head before shifting to keep the Doctor's from falling forward, "But Peter Pan… I'm very confused. Shouldn't Peter be helping and Hook be… trapping?"

Turning back to Clara, who was waiting expectantly, Emma sighed, "Not everything we grew up watching in Disney movies, or reading in fairy tales, is _exactly_ the whole story."

With a short nod of acceptance that Emma didn't expect, Clara replied, "That's easy enough. Get in the Tardis, tell it to find Henry, and we'll all be back to the mainland."

Emma looked to the ground, then up at Hook, "Nothing is ever that easy around here."

"Sure it is," Clara laughed, "Soon as the Doctor wakes, he can pilot the Tardis," she looked up at the blue box that was still humming, but now it was glowing, "What?" She struggled against the restraints and watched as the Tardis began to dematerialize in a shimmer of sparkles that Emma backed away from. "No!" Clara screamed at it. "He must have activated the HADS again!"

"The what?" Emma asked.

Clara continued to wrestle with the ropes, feeling the Doctor's head slip off hers and slump forward with a grunt as she explained, "Some sort of emergency relocation rule this idiot programmed – supposed to keep it from incredibly dangerous situations! Last time it sorted itself to the opposite pole…" her words trailed as she slipped down and landed roughly against the wood of the deck, taking the Doctor with her.

"That," Hook explained, coming closer with a wry smile, "Wasn't a program, dear. That was pixie magic." He glanced up at the island they were approaching, "The Lost Boys have the phone box."


	3. Chapter 3

"Untie me," Clara demanded.

"Never," Hook replied deviously, bending to meet her eyes as she glared.

Emma backhanded him on the shoulder, "Hook, untie them."

He straightened, "How can I possibly be menacing with you ordering around like my mum." He pulled his sword and stepped past Emma, bringing it down against the rope to Clara's shout of surprise and she jerked when the Doctor fell into her lap. "Your mate's a bit out of sorts isn't he."

"You conked him on the head with your hook!" Clara reminded. "Sorry if he's not up and about straight away with a smile and a helpful plan."

Sizing him up, Hook retorted, "Plan? Please tell me he'll straighten his _bow tie_ before he unveils it."

Clara stared up at him and smiled, "Possibly, but more towards the fact that it'll swoop over your daft oily head like a seagull on a breeze."

Emma's mouth dropped open slightly before she raised her hand to stop Hook as he clenched his teeth at Clara, who was eagerly waiting and Emma had no doubts the fiery brunette could handle herself in a verbal confrontation with the man at her side, but she didn't want her getting the sharp end of his hook. "Guys, Neverland. Henry. Tardy-thing?"

Turning away, Hook hissed at the sky and then dropped his head with a quick double nod to acknowledge that finding her son was far more important than winning a battle of wits with their new ship mates. "We'll remain on the ocean until daybreak."

"But the mermaids…" Emma started.

"Mermaids?" Clara repeated curiously.

"Yes, lass, mermaids," he snarked at her. "Half women, half fish. Care to take a swim and make their acquaintance? I'm sure they'd _love_ you."

Clara shook her head, ignoring his sass because the man in her lap was beginning to stir and from the way his brow knotted together, she knew his head would ache. "Doctor, we've managed to find Neverland," she whispered with a half-smile.

"Ah, Neverland," he groaned. "Land of pirates and lost boys and, hang on… land of… story," his eyes blinked widely open, "But a strong hook – actual hook, on a pirate. Hook!" He jolted up to a defensive stance. "Clara, stay behind me," he warned as she stood.

Emma raised her hands, along with her eyebrows when the man in front of her brandished an odd device with a glowing green light at its end and she assured, "Hey, all safe here, buddy – put the… put that away."

"A torch," Hook smirked. "He's going to best us with a torch."

The Doctor looked between the two as Clara tugged at his waist coat and told him quietly, "Doctor, we're on a boat and that's got no wood setting, nor a sword setting I would guess."

Slapping a hand against the edge of the device, he closed his palm around the now dim bulb and metal prongs at the end and then pocketed it, pacing around Clara before gesturing at Hook with a scowl, "Hook. Villain. Bad." Then the Doctor glanced at Emma, "Unknown female with Hook, also bad."

Hook smiled, "Struck your head a bit harder than I thought, mate."

"Not your mate," the Doctor spat. "And I'm assessing."

"Doctor," Clara called, "Are you sure your head's alright?"

He scoffed, head rolling towards her to allow, "Head's fine, mind's a bit confused though – Neverland, you say, actual Neverland? Of the story? J.M. Berrie? Peter Pan, and the Lost Boys? Wendy, Michael, John, Nana… Captain James Hook?"

"Actually, Killian Jones," the man bowed, eyes not leaving Clara's.

"Oh, stop," Emma grunted with an annoyed roll of the eyes.

The Doctor managed a grin then, telling him quietly, "You remind me of an old friend."

"Do I?"

With a nod, he continued, "Yes, and in the end, he had an awfully big head."

Both women snorted.

The Doctor pointed, "But this is Neverland; we're in Neverland."

Hook gestured out towards the island in the night, "Just a few knots away, _Doctor_."

"How is that possible?" He spat, shaking his head, "No, how is this possible? There's no such place as Neverland," he turned to Clara with a sudden smiled, "Believe me, I'd have taken you by now if there were," he shifted back to look at Hook, "But seriously, how is it possible," then he touched his temple, "Maybe I have been struck just a bit too hard… Clara, are you sure I'm not dreaming?" He laughed, "Would be one hell of a dream if I were."

Clara punched his shoulder and he shouted as she informed him, "You're not dreaming; this is Neverland."

"But how is it possible!?" He repeated.

Emma cleared her throat and waited for them both to turn, "We went through a portal in the ocean off the coast of Storybrook."

"Storybrook," the Doctor repeated. "How quaint." Then he gestured at Hook, "But how is _this_ possible?"

"I take it I'm the this to which you refer?" Hook replied in amusement.

The Doctor stared, "This is a story book character. Not real. Fictional world. I've seen a lot of worlds, but fictional ones don't magically appear, unless they're a hallucination – could this be a hallucination…"

"It's not a hallucination," Emma sighed, then gestured at him, "Magic box appears out of nowhere, strange man and his friend fall out of the box, you don't see me accusing you of being a hallucination."

"It would be quite logical," the Doctor surmised. "So, I'm a time travelling alien from outer space and you…" he trailed, waiting.

"Long story, but at the heart of it? An evil queen cast a curse that sent the characters in most of our fairy tales to the real world, robbing them of their happy ending. The curse created a town, Storybrook, to contain them. But there are still other lands, other realms, like Wonderland and Neverland, and while it's difficult, damned near impossible, we can travel between those places…"

Hook stepped forward with a grin, "Emma's the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, hitched a ride out of the curse in a magical wardrobe and her long lost son brought her back and now we're all up to speed and we can get to arming ourselves because Neverland," he turned to Emma, "if you recall," then looked back at the Doctor and Clara, "Isn't exactly a nice place."

And the woman smiled up at him, "I've read the story, I've seen the movie. You're not, exactly, Hook," she watched his face sour as Emma smirked, "And Neverland, it should be a magical place. We should be arming ourselves from you."

"Not everything in the storybooks is… how shall we say… _accurate_," Hook spat.

Emma raised a hand between them, sensing more tension rising, "Look, call it a hallucination, call it nonsensical, I'm just here to get my son back and whatever you gotta do to wrap your head around it all, do it and just tell me if you'll help."

Stepping forward, the Doctor smiled and offered earnestly, "Of course we'll help you find your son."

Clara seemed satisfied and she crossed her arms, "So, weapons?"

Hook raised an eyebrow and nodded to her, "Might be safer if you stayed on the boat, dear."

The Doctor's lips pursed tightly as his eyes widened and he took Clara by the shoulders, pulling her back as her mouth dropped open and her cheeks burned. "Clara," he warned, watching her gaze sting a trail to his, "He has a hook for a hand, it might be better if we didn't incur his wrath."

"_His_ wrath?" She hissed.

"What happened to the Tardis?" The Doctor asked her with a nod, knowing a subject change was in order, and he could see the temperature returning to normal, which was closer to being frustrated with him, as she sighed.

Clara whispered, "They think it was pixie dust."

With a laugh, he responded, "Tinkerbell took the Tardis?"

She shook her head, "Lost boys."

Straightening, "You're serious."

Tilting her head, she replied, "As serious as I can be talking about pixie dust and lost boys on a pirate ship in Neverland!"

"So the Tardis is on the island?"

"Suppose they might be thinking it's a good way out of Neverland," she suggested.

He didn't look amused, "If Neverland isn't as charming as it was presented in the novelization and Peter Pan is actually the enemy we're being told to fight, him having the Tardis means it's fallen into terrible hands." He turned to Emma and Hook, "What is the truth of Peter Pan?"

"He steals the boys and brings them here," Hook told him bluntly. "They take the unwanted and then he _plays_ with them until they're dead or mad."

Clara seemed taken aback by the knowledge.

"Yes, pet, it's not a pleasant as the story you've read."

She eyed him, then gave a short nod, "Is that why they've taken Henry?"

"How do you know they've taken Henry?" The Doctor countered curiously and Hook threw him a contemptuous look before his face softened as he heard the woman at his side clear her throat.

Emma clenched her jaw, "He's playing a game; my son is the prize."

"I take it you're the opponent," the Doctor presumed.

She nodded and the explained, "We got enough pixie dust to get us here and then seal the gateway back to this place forever so that rotten brat and his gang can't ever take anyone else's children again." Emma turned away from them and went back to the helm, taking hold of the wooden wheel to keep them drifting a course adjacent to the island. If it weren't for knowing Henry was somewhere on that island, she'd unleash every ounce of magic within her to blow it out of the ocean and she shook the small tingle from her fingertips, concentrating on steering instead.


	4. Chapter 4

Hook watched Emma a moment, wishing this could simply be a trip on the boat instead of another rescue mission. Of course, he knew it was only fitting – the only time they got to spend together was on missions. Climb the beanstalk, get the compass, save the kid… Hook looked over the Doctor and Clara and he turned away from them, frustrated by the look of aggravation the demure woman was giving him. She reminded him of Henry in an odd way with the knowing glances and the just-behind-the-eyes sassiness in every look. Actually, Hook snarled, hand coming to the railing, she reminded him of Pan.

Joining Emma, Hook nodded out at the land. "They'll have known we're coming by now."

"They knew we were on our way the second they left that dagger on Henry's bed," she growled back.

He raised an arm, tempted to touch hers, but he remained inches away, fingers rubbing against one another slightly before his hand fell away and he assured, "Emma, we got him back once; we'll do it again. And look, with an oaf and a sprite in tow – what could go wrong?" He smiled, waiting, and when she finally gave him an annoyed grin, he was satisfied, nudging her out of the way to take the wheel. "Henry's tougher than you lot give him credit for."

Emma nodded. "Last time we had Mary Margaret and David… and _Regina_," she ended with a mutter.

"Don't know why you're so hesitant to call them what they are," he sighed.

"What, mom and dad? My step-grandmother? No thanks," she laughed in response looking down at the duo who were having a quiet discussion against the mast and she could see the large man reach a comfortable hand for the small woman's cheek, letting it drop to her neck before slipping away. "They're actually taking this pretty well."

"They popped out of thin air in a blue box they're calling a space ship… something tells me they have experience with this sort of insanity," Hook assumed with an air of sarcasm. "She's quick with her lip, should see if she's any good with a bow – if she could climb a tree..."

"Want a look up that skirt?" Emma teased.

"She's small enough to be hidden easily in the foliage." He turned sharply, brow lowered, and told her uneasily, "From a greater height, she could take out the lost boys if she's a good shot."

She shrugged, "Something tells me she's not gonna take kindly to being asked to kill children, and he's not too keen to fight his way through this."

"What was the," he lifted his hand, looking as though he were raising a candle.

Emma stared.

"The thing with the green light," he slurred.

"Hell if I know," Emma replied quickly, "But it seemed like some sort of weapon. Of course, it probably only works on mechanical things – she said it wouldn't work on wood."

"Or swords," he added with a point before he turned the wheel to shift the boat starboard. "Which reminds, we need to get them at least comfortable with a weapon if they're going to help us." Hook sighed and admitted, "No sense in sailing about aimlessly, take the helm a moment."

Emma reached out to grip the wheel and watched him rush to drop the anchor before coming back to grin at her and within a few minutes he was back below deck searching for weapons. The Doctor was waving his wand about in the air and staring at it curiously while Clara followed him, occasionally whispering questions in his direction and receiving odd stares or quirky smiles and Emma found herself rolling her eyes at the two. She guessed neither was older than thirty, but with their level of familiarity, it seemed as if they'd been travelling together for much longer and the thought made her curious.

"You two married?" She asked pointedly, coming down to the main deck in time to see the flabbergasted looks they were giving both each other and her. "Not married then," Emma presumed.

"No, we…" Clara began. "We just travel together."

"She travels with me," the Doctor flustered.

"I travel with him," Clara nodded.

Emma gave them an awkward smile, watching them shift apart slightly, him throwing Clara a small grin while she stared out at the ocean, moonlight glowing on her reddened skin. "How'd you get here?"

The Doctor straightened and in that moment, Clara turned back to look at him, edges of her lips perking slightly and Emma knew – they weren't supposed to be, but they were definitely attracted to one another. She glanced towards Hook, coming out from his cabin and sighed, she knew it all too well. Raising his wand, the Doctor told her plainly, "Pixie dust, apparently."

Emma shifted her attention back as Hook handed Clara a bow and a quiver full of arrows she stared at as Emma asked, "But how did you get pixie dust?"

"How did you get here?" The Doctor asked her with a grin.

"We were on the ocean and we sort of…" she raised her hands, "Tossed it out."

He pointed, "Tossed out a magical substance while we were still in orbit around the Earth, the Tardis must have detected it, been attracted to it, and followed it into this pocket universe so we could explore," he looked to Clara, now examining the bow as Hook looked between two long swords, "So pixie dust and happy thoughts," he smiled.

"This one's a bit top heavy, but that might actually suite you as I imagine you might need some leverage for those limbs of yours," Hook told him, handing him a sword that the Doctor reluctantly took.

Clara stood with her lips pinched to the side before asking, "And I get a bow."

"Yes," Hook told her plainly.

"And arrows."

Tilting into her, he quipped, "You could shoot quills if you'd like, but I think arrows would do more damage."

"Why not a sword?" Clara challenged. Then she smiled, "I think I understand – I don't get a sword because you'd like to keep me away from the action. Think I'm not capable."

He shrugged and the Doctor told her quietly, "It might be best if you weren't in the thick of things."

"Well said, mate," Hook nodded.

"So you're keeping me out of danger," she asked both men. "What makes you think I wouldn't be better with a sword?" Clara gave the Doctor a harsh stare and though Emma couldn't interpret the meaning behind it, the Doctor understood – How many times have I saved you, _in the thick of things_?

Hook handed her his sword and she readily accepted it and then grunted when the tip embedded itself into the ground, too heavy for her to carry. He laughed, "I could find you a dagger, but that would require you to be in even closer proximity to your victim."

"I don't intend to stab anyone," she argued, struggling with the sword as she hung the bow across her body and settled the arrows on the ground, "I don't intent to shoot anyone either."

Hook and Emma exchanged a look and Emma clasped her hands together, "These lost boys, they're not, uh, not the ones from the book – they'll kill you. And they'll do it _laughing_."

Staring up at Emma, she nodded shortly and then turned to Hook, "Dagger then. Never shot a bow in my life and I imagine I'd easier put an arrow in your arse than in my target."

The man smiled appreciatively and plucked the sword out of her hands and up out of the boat, giving his ship a sad look before running his foot over the chink in the wood. "I'll find you a dagger then," he lamented, going back to his cabin.

"Did he just stroke his ship?" Clara asked Emma quietly.

The woman, looking as distressed as Clara, nodded, "I believe he did."

Throwing a glance at the Doctor, Clara pondered, "What is it with men and their ships?"

Emma smiled, "He do the same?"

"All the time," she replied with a quick laugh.

"Oi," the Doctor pointed, "Don't dis the ships; they have feelings."

Hook emerged again with a sheathed dagger Emma thought was comparable in length to Rumpelstiltskin's and he handed it to Clara, taking the bow to lay it aside. Smiling honestly, Clara thanked him and gave a small giggle as she stabbed at the air with it and then held it close to her chest, looking to the Doctor, who grinned gloomily and moved to find a spot to rest and study his Sonic. Emma made her way to the other edge of the boat to look out at the island she desperately wanted to be on, and Hook remained with Clara.

"Have you ever wielded a sword of any kind?" He questioned silently.

She shook her head, eyes finding the ground, "No need; not yet," she looked to the Doctor. "I imagined at some point I would have to, but never here," she chuckled, "Neverland."

"You keep talking as if it's a magical place," he told her.

Tilting her head slightly, she admitted, "In a story in a book it is." Then she straightened, "Funny how things in a book always seem less real and more fantastical once you've seen them in real life."

"I suppose," he nodded, smiling at the calmer woman, "Never got your name..."

"Clara," she replied with a nod, "So, _Killian_, how does one handle a sword without stabbing one's own eye out?"

He laughed, nodding and taking her long dagger to unsheathe, twisting it over in his palm easily. With a grin, he waved her closer to him, turning her to place the item in her hand and hold it straight, "Firstly, you're probably accustomed to blocking with your forearms. Unless you want to end up with a hook for a hand, I'd strongly suggest you _not_ do that."

She managed a chuckle, glancing up to meet his eyes as he began swinging her arm and uttering small bits of advice in her ear. Mostly he told her to duck and run and when he slipped away from her and drew his own sword, she momentarily panicked, but he swung it down slowly and she understood. Slipping into a playful duel with him, Clara thought to herself giddily – _I'm having a sword fight with Captain Hook in Neverland_!

Eyeing them as he ran the Sonic through the air, the Doctor muttered in frustration, jumping when Emma asked him loudly, "What is that thing, anyways?"

"Sonic screwdriver," he told her with a quick flip of the device, "I'm trying to discern where, exactly, we are, but the readings are erratic, no doubt being disturbed by the atmospheric anomalies of this universe – or the pixie dust remnants on the boat – and I'm trying to scan for signs of life on the island."

"There are at least a dozen teenaged boys," Emma allowed.

The Doctor frowned, planting himself on a box on the deck, turning to watching as Hook demonstrated proper sword technique to Clara, who seemed pleased, and he muttered to himself, "I'm adding 'Captain' to my name, seems to come with an awful lot of useless swooning."

Emma bent behind him, informing him pointedly, "Ever consider you're surrounded by useless swooning, you're just too busy fiddling with your Sonic to notice?"

He turned with a grin, passing a look of amusement up to her before seeing the smirk on her face and straightening. "What?" He managed.

Lifting her head to Clara and Hook, Emma opened her mouth to suggest that the petite brunette he'd arrived with was actually smitten with him, but she noticed the change in the air and the man in front stood to scan the air again. But as he shook the device in confusion, Emma shouted, "It's him!"


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor didn't have time to ask who before he saw the shadow that darted across the deck of the ship, swooping past them and slipping around Clara. Her shout was cut off by the speed of the motion and the Doctor was left to watch in horror as hoisting her into the air, but the pirate at her side was quicker, sword slipping into its sheath so he could grab hold of her ankle as she swung past him. Emma rushed forward, but it was too late, the two were off in the night sky towards Neverland.

Clara winced in pain because he was definitely not light enough for her to be pulling his weight and she looked up at the shadowy figure above her, its grip on her waist almost as painful as Hook's on her ankle. "What do I do?" She called as they moved over the sandy beaches and began to float over the thick trees of the jungle.

Hook met her eye and she knew. She knew because the dagger was still clasped in her hand, but the notion of stabbing a shadow seemed ridiculous, except… she swung up and narrowly missed his face and they fell slightly as the shadow stared in shock. Or at least it felt like it was staring in shock, Clara couldn't be sure. She just knew that the grip on her waist now felt like it was inside of her body and she was finding it difficult to breathe.

"No, Clara! _You need to hit him now_!" Hook shouted up at her and the panic in his voice startled her.

She swung again and connected with… _something_.

There was a shriek in her ear and then a cold wind went through her midsection and drifted away and she had a moment to sigh with relief before she realized they were now diving quickly towards the ground. She felt a tug on her foot, bringing her down easily into Hook's chest as he shifted his weight.

"No," she started, knowing he was going to let himself take the brunt of the fall, cradling her. "No!" She repeated, struggling against the arm that was firmly wrapped around her waist, fingers curling around the cool steel of his hook and then they splashed into a pool of frozen water and Clara screamed in shock, inadvertently inhaling the liquid and falling unconscious.

* * *

"Not happening," Emma growled, running to the anchor to try and hoist it up.

The Doctor followed, hand coming up to try and stop her, eyes closing as he calmed himself, "Emma, we need to find the long boat – this ship will be destroyed if we try and take it to the coast."

She stopped quick and turned, "Long boat," she repeated.

And he could see her working over how foolish her first instinct was – doubting herself as she went towards the boat. The Doctor helped her work it over the side of the ship so they could lower it into the water to begin rowing towards the island. They each worked a set of paddles and occasionally exchanged a glance filled with anxiety – Emma over knowing what could happen; the Doctor reading that worry on her face and being too afraid to ask – neither speaking a word until the boat sloshed against the sand and they jumped out, soaking themselves to their knees to drag their vessel higher on land.

Emma tied it quickly to a tree and yanked her sword free from the belt at her waist, turning to see the Doctor scanning the air again with his Sonic, his own sword held lazily in his left hand. "You can't fight the Lost Boys with that!" She shouted at him urgently. "You can't do anything with that!"

Raising his head, he furrowed his brow and allowed, "I can find Clara."

"How?" She demanded, "How can you find Clara?"

"I can search for signs of life, but…" he trailed, shaking his head and giving the Sonic a tap.

"What but?" Emma spat.

"I've been trying to scan for signs of life, to try and decipher how we could best save Henry, but I'm not finding any readings," he glanced up at her, "It's impossible."

Emma raised both arms, "Can you scan me?" Then she dropped her arms, "Maybe it got wet, short circuited."

The Doctor made a face, "The Sonic isn't just going to _short circuit_!" He wielded it in her direction and shrugged as he glanced at it and told her accusatorily, "You scan just fine."

"So you're saying there's no one else on the island?" Emma asked, the anger in her voice turning to panic.

"No," he nodded, "There's plenty of life – small, possibly indigenous. Incredibly small…" he said, sounding perplexed.

Emma sighed, "They're not pixies."

He looked up at her, "I didn't say they were pixies," he allowed.

She grunted, "Ugh, _Pixies_! They're probably using some hidden stash of their dust to shadow themselves – obviously Pan is here, probably mistook your friend for a new Lost Boy," she muttered.

"She was in a dress!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"Maybe he thought it was a Kilt! I don't know; I just know Pan isn't pleasant."

"Isn't pleasant…" the Doctor trailed, and Emma watched his features harden slightly, knew he was suddenly readying himself for knowing Clara might not just be in danger. And the Sonic came up again. He leaned against the boat's bow, back of his hand touching his forehead before he swept it away and glanced back at her, "Three alive on this island, including us."

Emma shook her head, "Your wand is wrong," she told him adamantly, knowing very well that third life could be Clara and _Hook_ could be the one lying stone cold somewhere out in the jungle. "It's obviously wrong." Gripping her sword tightly, she turned to the edge of the jungle and moved towards it before turning and shouting, "Come on!"

"Henry," the Doctor whispered, letting the Sonic slip into his pocket. "I'm so sorry, I'd forgotten." He grasped his own sword and lifted it into the air with a sad smile, "We'll save Henry."

"And when we find Clara… and Hook… we'll save them too."

"I like your plans," the Doctor told her, "Broad, open-ended, full of possibilities."

"Are you mocking me?" Emma spat.

He turned, looking dejected, "No, it's the sort of plan I'd come up with." Then he added, "I love possibilities," before they shared a small grin and stepped past the border of sand into the thick greenery.

* * *

Hook reached the edge of the water and easily slipped Clara up onto a mass of boulders there, laying her down gently to try and get his footing amongst the slipper rocks with half-numb legs. He shook his head when hers rolled to the side and he could see the trickle of water dribbling from her lips and he growled in anger because people who weren't accustomed to the ocean should stay the hell away from it… but from what he'd gathered from the _Doctor's_ ramblings, they hadn't exactly planned to land in the middle of the ocean.

"Clara, _don't you dare_," he protested, tilting her head back slightly and giving himself leverage to pump at her chest with his hand before pinching off her nose to force air into her lungs. "Come on you vexatious fool!"

Pressing his palm into her chest again, he clenched his jaw, watching her face for any sign of life and he imagined the lanky bloke left with Emma would surely take up a sword if he had to deliver the news that his small companion had perished by drowning in the middle of an island. Hook clamped his mouth on hers roughly and exhaled and as he lifted up, she coughed and sputtered water and he turned her on her side, eyes closed as he listened to her struggling, but breathing.

"Doctor," she managed between gasps.

"Sorry, love, he's back on the Jolly Roger," he told her quietly, watching her eyes shift up to look at him sadly, as if she'd just understood she was stuck on the island with him. The look of sadness she gave him surprisingly disheartened him and he released her to fall onto her back and cough up at the sky, avoiding his stare. "Should go without saying, but, don't move," he snipped, turning and diving back into the water to search for the dagger she'd dropped.

Clara put a hand to her stomach and nodded to herself before sitting up straight away, listening to the crickets and the breeze playing through the trees. She looked out over the smooth water next to her and gasped when Hook emerged just in front of her, head shaking to let her know he hadn't been able to find it.

"Where are we?" She rasped, chest still aching, as she shifting aside so Hook could pull himself up next to her.

He ran a hand through his hair and glanced about with frown before smiling down at her, "Neverland."

"But…" she started, "Where are we?"

"I look like a bloody map, sweetheart?"

Clara rolled her eyes and moved to stand, boots sliding easily and landing her against Hook's chest where she pushed off and slipped over the nearest boulder to fall on her backside in a pocket of marsh. She could hear him chuckling as she trudged the few steps to solid land and straightened her skirt over her thighs, groaning because the tights weren't going to be comfortable as they dried – if they dried – and her boots would give her blisters.

"You should take those off," Hook suggested with a gesture to her legs.

Clara's mouth dropped open slightly as he made his way towards her and she told him firmly, "No."

"Fine," he replied with a smile, "I hope they don't chafe your delicate skin."

"I don't have delicate skin," she replied, feeling stupid as the words escaped her mouth.

Turning away from him, Clara coughed roughly, bending slightly, and she felt his hand at her back. Glancing up at him, the amused grin had faded into a frown of concern and she shook her head at him, straightening and looking out over the jungle. Hook wouldn't admit it to her, but he was impressed by how quickly she seemed to want to move on – only a few moments before she'd been dead to the world, or close enough to it. He wondered if her travels with her Doctor invited such danger, or if she was just _that_ adept at picking herself back up off the ground.

"We came from the South," Hook gestured

Clara nodded, "Then we should head back that way, find the Doctor and Emma."

Hook turned and then told her bluntly, "I think you're right, definitely south."

"You're agreeing with me?" Clara scoffed.

"Absolutely, I am," he nodded, beginning to walk.

"Why are you agreeing with me?" she asked him pointedly.

Hook tilted his head and smiled nervously, "Let's not fight and _say_ _we did_?"

"Are you trying to take the mickey out of me?" Clara demanded.

Crossing her arms in confusion, Clara turned to look across the lake and gasped, seeing a large glowing green mass approaching through the trees towards them at a quick pace. She watched it swirl, testing the waters before it slipped over them and began crossing the lake and she heard Hook take several heavy steps towards her just as she began to back away.

"Was trying to keep you from panicking," Hook rasped in her ear as he took hold of her elbow and twisted her quickly to begin rushing into the forest.


	6. Chapter 6

No sooner had they gotten into the forest than Clara had tripped on a fallen log and landed roughly against the foliage. Skidding to a stop, Hook turned with a shout of frustration, then noticed the green gas spun rapidly over the water and then sank into it. Clara watched it as well, lifting herself off the ground and slapping her palms against her thighs to try and dust off the leaves clinging to her. She moved back towards it and he caught her around the shoulder with the cold steel of his hook, keeping her back.

"You _mad_?" He barked.

Pointing at the glowing lake, Clara cried, "Don't you want to know what happened?"

With a shake of his head and a smile, he told her honestly, "No, I don't. I want to find Emma and then find Henry and then get the hell of this God forsaken rock."

The water sloshed roughly and Clara looked back at it. "Whirlpool," she whispered.

"Sorry?" Hook replied.

Turning back to him, she smiled, "Whirlpool, the pixie magic – that's how you said you created a whirlpool to get here. Someone's used it on the island to create a whirlpool to someplace else."

"Why would anyone do that?" He asked flatly, staring as she began moving towards it and he rushed to her side, stopping her with a hand to hers this time, pulling her back, "I wouldn't get too close," he warned.

Clara smiled, "Worried about me?"

He laughed, "You just died, you do realize?"

"Yes, I suppose I did," she replied with a nod. Clara moved even closer, slipping out of Hook's grasp and she neared the edge of the water, looking into the circling waves and feeling the spray dotting her face as she narrowed her eyes. "Can't see in!" She shouted back at Hook.

"Clara, we should leave," he replied, reaching again for her and pulling her back, this time not letting her get away, "Who knows what might come out of that."

"You _are_ worried," she teased.

With a wry smile, he told her darkly, "Pirate code, I saved your life – you owe me; I intend to cash in."

Staring at him a moment, trying to size him up, she turned back to the whirlpool and then reluctantly moved towards Hook as he stepped backwards. "What if they took Henry into that whirlpool?" She suggested.

"Why would Pan do that?" Hook asked bluntly.

"You said it yourself, he plays games," Clara reminded.

He shook his head, "That is true, lass, but what was said was he _lays traps_," he nodded to the whirlpool, "That could very well be one, one with a big shiny sign that should scream _keep out_…"

Clara then nodded and told him adamantly, "Then we _really_ have to find the Doctor."

"Why the sudden urge?" Hook asked as she moved into the jungle, turning to wait for him to lead the way because Clara knew she had little knowledge of finding her way and a lot of experience in getting lost.

She looked up at him, frown marring her face, and admitted, "Big shiny things? He pokes at them with sticks."

* * *

He continued to scan randomly as Emma rolled her eyes ahead of him. She wasn't quite sure where they were going, but she knew they were travelling north and north was good – it was the direction Pan's shadow had been flying with Hook and Clara. They just had to avoid the dark forest, _sure_, and make their way to Pan's camp without a map. _Not bloody likely_, she could hear Hook telling her in her head, and it made her grin because he'd be right.

"Snow White is a real person?" The Doctor asked.

"Yes," Emma replied calmly, sword coming up to slice at the brush in front of her so they could continue on, her mind working over everything she'd learned the last time.

"And Prince Charming?" The Doctor continued.

"Yes," Emma sighed.

"Pinnochio?"

"Yup," Emma turned to look at the perplexed features wrinkling on his face.

He pointed, sudden excitement exploding from his eyes, "Is Jiminy Cricket actually a cricket?"

Shaking her head, Emma managed a smile as she let him down with a sad, "He's a man, and a psychologist."

"Fitting," the Doctor replied earnestly. Then he eyed her, head tilting away from her, "Little Red Riding Hood…"

"She's also the Big Bad Wolf," Emma told him, coming to a stop as he stared sadly at the floor. "Look, I'll save you the time and trouble of remembering all the stories and just tell you now – they're all real, they're real people, they're back in Storybrook." She planted her free hand on her waist and nodded, "Any other questions?"

The Doctor pressed his lips together tightly before glancing around and then telling her, "But it's impossible, it's all impossible!" He raised his hands slightly, "They're stories – fairy tales – words on pages that came from the minds of men…"

"And how do you think the ideas got there?" Emma challenged before gesturing at him with a smile. "You know, Henry would have a field day with you – your space ship is a wooden box you claim can travel through time, and space, but you have a problem with Pongo and Perdita."

He straightened, "They're real? Are there one hundred and…"

"Doctor, it might be best if we kept the talking to a minimum," she told him on a sigh.

She continued walking and he followed, flustered, "But I'm trying to sort it – how are they real, they've never, I've never… it isn't something I've ever come across."

"Take it you come across a lot of weird stuff."

"Sun gods and diamond planets and flesh duplicates and living statues and hungry shadows and… but fairy tales that are real – actually real. And we're _literally_ on Neverland. _Neverland_!" he smiled, "I was going to take Clara to a planet with a weakened gravity field before we were pulled to this place – I had intended to fly, intended to goad her into flying because she seemed a bit frightened of the idea, and then we were pulled here. And she flew, and she was _terrified_…" his words failed him a moment and Emma stopped, watching the sorrow with which he stared off into the jungle, as though it were his fault.

Stepping towards him, she told him firmly, "We'll find her. It's probably some game of Peter's. Your Sonic thing didn't detect her because he's pixie dusted her just like he's done to the other Lost Boys – and to Henry."

Giving her a weak smile, he nodded, "I've just lost her before." He exhaled, "You want to talk of impossible things – that woman is an impossibility. Lived and died a thousand times over, scattered throughout the universe as echoes of herself by the time winds to save me." He watched Emma's curious expression and then looked away, "And I got her back, _impossibly_, and now I've lost her again."

"This is an island of impossibly lost things, but trust me, they can be found again," Emma encouraged, smiling genuinely when he met her gaze and he nodded, straightening his lanky posture to scan again and he perked slightly. "What?"

"Four," the Doctor told her. "Four living on this island, aside from the _not_ pixies… wait," he told her, "Five."

"Five?" Emma replied, then told him darkly, "Peter Pan."

There was a chuckle from the man at her side that she considered. He was grinning, one eyebrow rising as he pocketed the Sonic and glanced towards the jungle behind Emma, "Dark blonde hair? Thin and emblazoned with smugness?"

"Yeah," Emma spat.

"Me to a T," Peter told the Doctor. "And who might you be?" He glanced at Emma, who turned swiftly at the sound of his voice. "You've brought me new play things. How could I _ever_ thank you?"

Emma moved to rush forward, but Peter lifted a finger and sighed, "Henry."

She stopped, eyes widening before she shouted, "We're not playing this game again."

His head dropped slightly and he told her, "Oh Emma, we'll always be playing this game."

"What game is that?" The Doctor pondered, arms crossing over his chest as he considered the boy who stood before them with his head tilted back slightly to smirk evilly at them.

"Cat and Mouse. Hide and Seek. Blind Man's Bluff – do you know that one, good sir?"

"Doctor," he replied with a nod, "And yes, some of my favorites."

"Ah, he _games_," Peter called coyly. "You've brought me a player."

With a smile of his own, the Doctor told him, "Oh, Peter, I'm quite looking forward to it."

"A _foolish_ player," Peter spat.

"An _old_ player," he pointed out.

"Very old," the boy observed, something sparking in his eyes. "How old are you, Doctor?"

Looking skyward, the Doctor shook his head slightly from side to side and allowed, "Just a chip over a thousand and I've played a lot of games during that time." He looked to Emma, "So what are the terms for the boy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know where Clara and Killian are?" He glanced from Emma to the Doctor and back, "You might be pleased to know they're becoming _quite_ acquainted."

Emma was the first to ask lowly, "What do you mean?"

"I believe their lips have met," Peter chuckled, then looked to the Doctor with a menacing grin, "Oh, how the old man blushes with rage thinking of his _sweet_ little Clara in the arms of that _pirate_."

Turning to him, Emma advised, "It's just a game, Doctor."

"You know I don't lie, Emma," Peter reminded.

"She drowned," the Doctor told him through clenched teeth. "An island of this size was bound to have an internal water source to sustain you and the Lost Boys and since you don't have her, I take it she was able to escape from the grasp of your shadow. Fell into a lake and drowned because she isn't a swimmer," he looked to Emma. "It's why she didn't come up on my scan earlier. And Hook revived her," he turned back to Pan to watch him nodding approvingly. "Play your games, Peter, but know that I'm quite fond of my companion and quite aware of what she would and _wouldn't_ do."

"Oh, this _will_ be fun," the boy said with a bop of his head to the right before he disappeared.


	7. Chapter 7

Clara watched the Pirate slicing his way through the jungle in front of her, keeping herself at a space that was neither too far, nor too close. She could see his hook, lifting branches so he could swing his sword through them to clear their path and she sighed because it had been quite some time since the man had spoken to her – not that she particularly wanted him to speak to her, but the silence wasn't something she was used to. She was used to the Doctor, jabbering his way through their adventures, not breaking for even a breath sometimes, and the thought of him, awkwardly bending and slapping at the palm fronds and long grass around them brought an instant chuckle to her throat, one that gained her a look from the man ahead of her.

"Amused?" He questioned lowly.

With a shrug, she admitted, "Imagining the Doctor trying to get through this."

"I _imagine_ he'd have some difficulty – seems he's barely coordinated enough to walk a plank."

"Oh, he'd fall," she teased, seeing the grin that tempted his lips.

Hook sighed and called back, "He'll be fine."

"I wasn't concerned," she countered.

He gave her a steely look, one that told her _you're lying and I know it_, before he sighed, "Emma will keep him safe… or at least alive... until we meet up again."

With a nod, she looked to the ground, stepping over a log and when she glanced back up, she ran directly into his side, his arm coming out to help her keep her balance as she quietly apologized and stepped away. Clara could tell he was staring at her curiously and she inhaled deeply to meet his gaze.

"It's funny, with what we've just been through, this is where your worry lies – _how the Doctor_ is faring with Emma," he told her bluntly, taking the canteen off his waist to drink before offering it to her.

Clara held the object a moment, watching him nod, as if giving her permission, before she took a small sip and handed it back with a shrug and a careful, "He has a tendency to get himself into trouble. Told you, he pokes dangerous things with sticks for a laugh."

Hook chuckled to himself, eyes drifting to the forest, "So you're not worried about Emma?"

Turning her head slightly, she asked, "Why would I be worried about Emma?"

"You fancy this Doctor fellow of yours," he said with a shift of his eyes to hers, waiting for a denial that didn't come before adding, "You're not concerned in the slightest that he'd be off in the jungle _replacing_ you as his companion?"

Clara smiled. "Seems I'm not the one who's actually concerned."

Hook stared, one eyebrow ticking up slightly.

"I saw the way you looked at her," Clara nodded, "Then again, you tend to stare – makes people quite uncomfortable."

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" He asked, stepping into her.

She glanced from one hand to the other and admitted, "Hook on one side; sword on the other. Pirate emblazoned across your persona? I'd say I'm _allowed a little discomfort_."

And he frowned, unexpectedly, shifting away and sighing before glancing at the skies above them through the tall palms to tell her, "I suppose there is an air of unease that comes with being a pirate. Shipmates won't take orders from one who's easy on the discipline."

"Not your shipmate, Killian," Clara pointed out.

He laughed, "No, most definitely not my shipmate."

"Why does she call you _Hook_ when your name is Killian?" Clara questioned.

"Why do you call him _Doctor_? He must have a name," Hook challenged back.

Snatching his sword, trying to hide the effort it took to keep it steady, Clara moved past him with a sigh and a quiet, "Guess we all have our secrets – keeping our hearts detached with titular boundaries."

He moved after her, laughing as she gripped the sword with two hands and swung it up like a baseball bat into a large chunk of grass in front of them with a grunt. "Clara," he sighed, hand landing on her shoulder to stop her, "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Worried about me, Killian?" She teased, shrugging out of his grasp to continue on, feeling foolish when she swung the sword down into a tree branch and lodged it there, just as she'd done on the ship.

He stepped around her and jerked the sword out, flipping it easily within his palm as he shifted back and looked sideways at her with a grin. "You're more dangerous than you realize," he told her calmly and he moved forward again, working his way through the foliage. Clara pressed her palms into her waist and then exhaled roughly, rushing to catch up, this time closer than before, and she wondered if somewhere out in that jungle, the Doctor was feeling as flustered with Emma.

* * *

"So what is Pan?" The Doctor asked Emma as they trudged on.

Emma glanced back as he randomly swung the sword at higher branches she'd missed, ones that were tapping him against the head as he walked. She smiled as his awkwardness and shook her head, "Hook called him a demon once; I'm inclined to agree."

"Demons and pixie dust," the Doctor laughed. "Quite the adventure."

With a huff of frustration, Emma replied, "What is your deal anyways? The box and the girl and your obvious acceptance of our situation." She glanced back, "I mean, is this the sort of stuff you do normally? Run into danger and save people?"

He nodded, "Isn't this what any person would do, given the circumstances?"

She laughed shortly and shook her head, "If I weren't invested in making sure my son and my friends were safe, I'd have been long gone from Storybrook a long time ago."

"I think you enjoy it," the Doctor observed, "Not all of it – obviously – but I'd wager before Storybrook your life wasn't lived behind some desk, dreaming of the world outside. I'd guess that your life _then_ was quite suited for you to adapt to this life _now_."

She knew he was waiting for her to acknowledge his assertions as right or wrong, but Emma wouldn't satisfy him by telling him that she did feel a smidge of excitement every time they started another round of ridiculousness. Just as she felt every time she had to chase down another _bad guy_ back in the _real world_. It actually amused her that she'd separated the worlds in a way. There was the world of Storybrook and the connected universes of Wonderland and Neverland and wherever else they'd pop a hole to… and then were was the world outside of it all.

The world where everything made sense, even when it didn't.

"You're really not concerned about Clara with Hook?" Emma shot quickly, turning to watch the quick flash of jealousy that wrinkled his forehead before he smiled up at her and she knew what he was thinking – it didn't bother him as much as it bothered her. "He's a pirate," she reminded. "He's a ruthlessly smug son of a bitch, and he'll _engage_."

With a shrug, the Doctor replied, "And she's clever enough to see through him. She's also surprisingly just as self-servingly confident and…" he trailed, odd grin lifting his lips. "Absolutely flirtatious."

"You've got a thing for her, don't you," Emma laughed, "And pretty confident she feels the same."

"I presumed the pirate belonged to you," the Doctor told her knowingly, watching her turn away quickly.

"The pirate belongs to no one," she spat back at him, "Neither does Clara."

He only grinned and nodded.

"This is what Peter wants, you know."

"Not sure I follow," the Doctor told her plainly, sword dropping down at his side lazily as he raised his Sonic again and scanned around.

Emma stopped and pointed her sword at him, "You and I, jealous of them. Jealousy's a pretty powerful emotion and it can really cloud a person's judgment."

"I'm not jealous," he told her absently, shifting to the right.

"Well, as long as we're clear," she finished before gesturing at him, "What are you doing?"

He smiled, "They'll flirt, they'll share a drink, a tale, get under each other's skin – Clara has a way of being infectious that way, but she'll consider this a fairy tale soon to be left behind, like the childhood it came from, and once we're gone, you and _Captain Hook_ can dance back into the tango we interrupted." He raised the Sonic, "There's some sort of disturbance on the island, and I'm guessing it's where Peter Pan would like us to go."

With a shuffle of her feet, Emma told him, "We have to find Hook and Clara."

"We have to find Henry," the Doctor corrected. "Hook and Clara will be fine for a time on their own," and then he added, to the look of worry on her face, "Trust him," catching Emma by surprise.

Turning away from the Doctor she shrugged away the notion that the odd man understood it wasn't the unknown woman in the equation she was distrustful of. She looked out over the jungle and then swung her sword up as he began to step to the right, tapping him in the gut and earning her a grunt of shock before she nodded to the bushes just in front of him.

"Poisonous," she allowed.

"Ah," he responded, scanning it.

"You scan everything with that?"

His chin shot up, "Yes, does that bother you?"

She nodded with a snort, "Feels like we're on a Star Trek mission, like Captain Kirk's about to come running out of the jungle with a couple of redshirts at any moment." The Doctor stared at her a moment and she realized the look on his face was one of sadness and she asked plainly, "What?"

"I take it then they're not real and roaming about."

"Who?" She asked.

He smiled, "The crew of the Enterprise."

Emma rolled her eyes and continued forward. She swung her sword up easily, slicing at vines and she heard the sigh of disappointment from behind her, turned to crack some joke when something caught her ankle and she shouted out as she stopped, but it was too late. The Doctor had been following too closely and they were both swooped up into a net, their swords clattering to the ground beneath them as they swung in a tangled mess several feet off the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

"The pirate really is the clever one," Peter sighed, coming out from the scarce path they'd been on, hands clasped behind his back as he stared up at Emma and the Doctor. A look of disappointed amusement passed over his face as they swung slightly in the oversized net, both clinging to the sides and staring down at him with scowls of frustration. Peter shook his head slightly, a quiet _tsk-tsk_ escaping his lips as he came to a stop and grinned.

Emma groaned against the rope pressing into her cheek and she called down at the boy, "Isn't this cheating?"

"No, Emma," he raised a finger and wagged it once, pointedly. "This is trapping."

"What's the purpose of the trap?" The Doctor asked.

He smiled up at him, "Same as the purpose of any trap," he shrugged, glancing away a moment before finishing quickly, "_Entrapment_." Gesturing up at them, he nodded back to the jungle and offered, "If you'll excuse me, there's a pirate and a lost girl that are in desperate need of attention."

Peter moved slowly into the foliage as the Doctor gripped the rope in anger, but Emma only laughed. Brow furrowed, he turned to look at her and Emma asked quietly, "You don't happen to still have that Sonic thing on you, because it doesn't do wood, but I'm going to bet it does rope."

He shifted awkwardly, foot pressing roughly into Emma's thigh, and gestured below, "You'd be right, it would work on the rope, but you'd also be out of luck, because it was knocked out of my grasp by the rope."

"Entrapment," Emma repeated. She growled loudly, hands grasping at the net wrinkled around her before she shook her head and lifted herself up, finding the foot in her side pushing as she tried to reach the top of the net before she shouted, "Are you _actively_ kicking me away from you?"

"I _might_ be!" He squealed in response and she got the distinct impression he didn't know how to handle the close proximity to a woman.

She rolled her eyes at him, "I can't imagine what you're like with her."

He remained silent and sullen, foot shifting away as Emma pulled herself up to try and see if she could climb the rope to the branch from which it hung, but after a few minutes she fell away, staring down at rope burned hands and muttering curses under her breath. The Doctor pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and then suggested, "We could swing."

"What?" Emma spat.

"Swing," he repeated, hand coming away, "The momentum would eventually become great enough that we might swing over the branch…"

"And go crashing into the poisonous thorn bushes," she pointed.

He frowned, "Entrapment."

Emma watched him a moment before telling him, "We'll think of something."

With a nod, he found himself perplexingly blank on ideas because he was thinking of something, but it wasn't how to get out of the trap Pan had laid for them. He was thinking of that rotten child making his way through the jungle to Clara.

* * *

Clara batted away a branch that swung back as Hook released it, strutting his way through another patch of overgrown brush he was making little effort to cut away. She hissed when it caught her hand, pinching and cutting at the flesh of her palm and the sound stopped Hook in his tracks, bringing him quickly to her side. Grasping her hand, he glanced at the bush that had cut her and she found him breathing a small sigh of relief before he looked back at her and gave her the smallest of smiles.

"What?" She asked with a huff of frustration. "Gonna tell me if I were taller, this wouldn't be a problem."

"No, love," he responded on a sigh, "I was just thankful it wasn't poisonous, and your worst malady will be discomfort."

Her body dropped slightly as she muttered, simply, "Oh."

Hook glanced around at the jungle and she knew he was studying the stars above them, making sure they were still on the right track before he looked back at her. "The silence is unnerving."

"You're waiting for Pan to come jumping out of a bush, aren't you?" Clara questioned, eyeing him as he brought his gaze back down on her in annoyance.

"Firstly," a boyish voice mocked from behind her, "I wouldn't come _jumping_ out of a bush; that would be foolish…" He paused to laugh at the jump she gave and the way Hook drew his sword and stepped in front of her, other arm held out to keep her behind him. "Secondly, my _my_, Killian; I do like your new _accessory_."

With a grin, Hook nodded, "How's your shadow?"

"Smarting," Pan spat, eyes finding Clara's. "But it's a shadow – easily mendable." Then he sighed, "I'm quite surprised you survived the fall."

"Happened to land in a lake," Hook told him with a tilt of his head, "Was quite a refreshing treat, actually… not the usual welcome."

Peter nodded to Clara, "How have you been, _Clara_? Are you enjoying your first…"

"It's Peter Pan," Clara interrupted. "And he's a right git."

The boy bowed. "I'm sorry if you were startled before, sometimes we lack the etiquette to simply ask politely for the things that we want." He laughed, adding with a glance around, "_Lost boys_, no mums about to teach those sorts of things."

Clara's brow knotted together and allowed, "What is it that you _want_?"

"Didn't you hear me?" He raised his eyebrows, feigning confusion, "No _mums_ about."

"I'm not your mum," Clara spat.

"Well," Peter's head fell back slightly, "No, that would be rather uncivilized." He gestured to his chest, "You see, our game – the Lost boys and I…"

"He's father," Hook growled.

Making a face of disgust, Clara shook her head, and asked pointedly, "Where's Emma's son? Henry."

With a huff of a laugh, Peter continued to eye her a moment before glancing up at Hook to declare quickly and confidently, "Henry's not on this island."

"The whirlpool," Clara reminded Hook.

Peter gave her a curious nod, "Well aren't you a quick one, not accustomed to such company."

"Peter, where's the boy?" Clara asked.

He shook his head, "No, no, see, that would be too simple."

"He seeks to play a _game_," Hook allowed with a scowl.

The boy grinned up at him, "Ah, Killian, don't pretend you don't enjoy a spot of entertainment every once and again; If I recall correctly, you were quite the player in your youth," he eyed Clara, "And I'm fairly sure you're still up for the challenge."

Hook shifted again, blocking Pan's view of Clara. "I'm quite done with the games, Peter."

"Pity," Peter replied with a head shake as he eyed the ground, "When you are ready, Killian – and I'm fairly sure you'll find that inspiration soon – I'll be at the lake." He grinned up at Hook, shifting sideways to nod to Clara, "And don't you worry, ma'am, there'll be plenty of festivities for you and your lanky friend."

"The Doctor?" She began, but Hook gave her a push back to halt her words and he lunged forward, sword clashing instantly with the golden blade of Peter's.

Clara shouted, watching the two battle, but she knew she was in no position to get in the way, her only option to stand aside and wince occasionally as the metal clanged loudly together while the two shifted over the small clearing. Hook clenched his teeth when the boy smiled at him through the swinging swords, taunting him. He knew the game, knew it all too well, and it angered him more than it surprised him when he heard the small women standing just at the edge of the jungle give a small whelp before she went silent.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to _look_," Peter hissed. "Wouldn't you like to know what's happened to dear old _Clara_," his eyes widened, "Could be _anything_."

Hook chanced to turn and in that quick glance he felt a sting at his cheek and knew the razor sharp edge of Pan's sword had scratched him in his distraction. But he saw what he needed, two larger Lost Boys dragging Clara off into the jungle, a burlap sack held roughly over her head. He felt the fury in his chest as his blows became rougher, the arc of his swing became erratic, wanting not just to cut the boy, but to slice through his chest and stop his heart.

"Old man, your form is slipping," Pan teased with a loud laugh that seemed to echo in Hook's ears.

"She's not part of your game, Pan," Hook hissed in response.

"Bystander," Pan shrugged, sword meeting Hook's thrice loudly, "Should really walk away if they're not ready to become _involved_, wouldn't you agree?"

Hook gave a growling shout as he brought the butt of his sword down at Peter's temple, eliciting a small cry of pain and a sliver of blood as the boy stumbled away, head lowered slightly to look at him with wrath. Pan pointed with his sword and Hook charged, blade ready, before Pan shifted aside and a log ran heavily into his chest, knocking him to the ground with a grunt.

The air was gone from his lungs, replaced by a hot burn and he was instantly aware of how vulnerable he was on that jungle ground, incapable of much movement as he winced in pain, with no backup. He wished Emma would come tromping out, ready with her own blade to stop Peter, but he knew it wouldn't happen. Pan was too confident, striding towards him with that irritating grin and bop of his head.

"You'll play the game, Killian," Peter told him. "You'll play and Emma and the Doctor will play… and _Clara_? _Clara_ will most definitely play." He pressed a foot into Hook's chest, grinding it to prevent him from taking a deep breath and he smiled down maliciously to watch him suffer before telling him, "And when we next duel, _Killian_, I'll have your heart."


	9. Chapter 9

The Doctor touched a finger to the rope, other hand balled into a fist pressed into his cheek, elbow painfully digging into his knee. Emma had pulled off her sock and was trying to use it to create enough friction to burn through the rope, but the Doctor had already told her – thrice, in fact – that it would never work and it was more likely she would rip through the sock with the effort. The rope was too course, something she should know from the reddened scrapes on her hands from trying in vain to climb it.

The sock snapped and Emma toppled over against him before shoving away, glaring at him, "Aren't you going to try something?" She shouted at him. "Clara's out there! Don't you care about her safety?"

Turning his attention to her, his finger dropped away and he shifted in the net, "Of course I care, but I also know that sometimes having a little patience is the best move in a game of chess."

Pointing out into the jungle as best she could, Emma informed him bluntly, "This isn't some chess match, _buddy_, this is Neverland – and that kid? He's gonna rip her heart out just to watch her bleed."

"He won't, not without our audience," the Doctor replied coldly. Then he glared at her, face crumpling angrily as he spat, "Don't you understand? That's part of the game – it isn't _fun_ without an _audience_, and he won't hurt either of them if we're not there. He'll want to gauge our reactions; he'll want to watch us suffer as they do."

She shook her head, "That's your great answer? You won't try because eventually you think he'll cut us down?"

"No," he sighed, "Taking Clara off the Jolly Roger wasn't some accident – Hook tagging along was – and since he has neither of them, eventually your friend will come trouncing through the jungle, hopefully with Clara still in tow, and _they'll_ be able to cut us down," he turned to her, "But it doesn't make sense that he would play these games when he already has a pawn on the board."

"Pawn on the board?"

"Henry," the Doctor said sadly, head bowed.

"Henry's a pawn."

"This isn't your first trip to Neverland, I gathered that much, and the last time you came for your son as well – so it would seem Peter Pan is intent on bringing you back, finish whatever was started on your last trip." He looked up at her expectantly.

"Yeah, I didn't gut him like I should have," Emma spat.

With a weak smile, the Doctor nodded, "Think of this as a re-match; he thinks he can win the game this time and he's pleased that you've brought him extra players. Henry's a pawn; Clara's a pawn – we've become the players: you, Hook, and I." He chuckled.

"How can you find this funny?" Emma hissed.

Steeling his eyes to look up at her, he clenched his jaw, "It isn't funny at all, but we can't let the anger cloud our judgment." He smiled. "Cool heads win games like this."

She frowned, staring at the man who went back to tapping a finger lightly against the rope. If only she had the tranquility he controlled. Settling herself against the net, she nudged him with the toe of her boot and asked quietly, "You and Clara, how long have you been travelling around in that box of yours?"

His grin was easy and she realized that this was the face of serenity – the relaxing of his brow and the softening of his eyes at the mere thought of the small woman lost in the jungle – and when he glanced up, she was surprised to see the years that had disappeared from his features. The Doctor glanced away just as quickly, realizing Emma's understanding, and uttering a simple, "A few months."

"Some few months, I take it," she huffed.

"And you," he gestured to a space beside her, "You and Captain Hook."

"Oh, we've been doing this dance for quite some time." Then she considered it and laughed, "Actually, just a few months."

"Some few months, I take it," the Doctor replied, grinning at her until she returned the appreciation for their shared situations and he slapped a hand on her boot, pulling it up to point at her, "You've got to have more faith in him. He certainly has quite a bit for you."

"How do you figure?" She asked.

He nodded knowingly, "He didn't just chase after Clara to save her – he did it with the expectation that you'd pilot his ship safely and go in after him." Then he glanced at his knees, thinking about Clara piloting his Tardis into the pocket universe. How unexpected her rescue had been and how much he knew she, and his Tardis, had been willing to sacrifice to do so.

"Well, I can't leave the idiot to fend for himself," she huffed.

The Doctor clasped his hands together, elbows rounding his knees, "No, you certainly couldn't."

They chuckled softly together and Emma considered him as his brow furrowed again, the worried expression plaguing his features as he went back to his thoughts. Thoughts, Emma could tell, that were already clouded enough without everything happening around them. Thinking about Clara, the smallest of grins occasionally breaking the look of concentration he gave the space in front of him – some memory fluttering to the surface to crack the façade.

With a frown, Emma asked, "So why did Clara become a _pawn_ and not a _player_?"

"Because she's going to play _mother_ in Pan's game," came the frustrated voice from below just a second before they heard the hard chink of a sword striking the rope holding them up. Emma managed to gasp before they went flying towards the ground, hitting it with a series of shouts and grunts.

The Doctor stood first, straight and angry as he stared at Hook with a scowl and told him plainly, "Could use a bit more tact, _mate_."

"Aye," Hook replied with a smile, "But what would be the _fun_ in that?"

"What do you mean Clara's going to play mother?" Emma asked, collecting the swords and the Doctor's Sonic and quickly passing it into his open palm as he continued to glare at Hook.

Hook held the other man's gaze a moment, but Emma could tell his heart wasn't in it as he let his eyes fall to the ground before looking to her, "One of his games, pretending the Lost Boys are in need of _good parentage_," his eyes drifted to the Doctor before finishing, "and he's keen on your friend."

Nodding slowly, the Doctor took a sword from Emma and moved towards the jungle, slicing quickly and with purpose now and Emma jumped after him, slapping away a palm frond to grab at his elbow, but he pulled it away. "Come on, cool heads, remember," she told him quickly, feeling Hook on her heel.

The Doctor slowed to a stop, eyes closing before he turned and she could see the slight bop his head gave before he looked to her and then up at Hook, "You're right, and she's become a pawn because of me – Pan's intrigue at our sudden arrival warrants Clara and I become player and pawn. Logic decrees the choice. Misogynistic precedents, which, given Pan's origins in history and geographical location would be the psychological route he's been programmed to follow, dictate taking Clara from me would have more of an antagonistic result than taking me from her."

"Would seem the devil is right," Hook told him, eyebrow rising.

"He _would_ be right," the Doctor responded darkly before taking a breath to look to Emma, "But cooler heads prevail," and then he asked quietly, "Killian, do you know where they've taken her?"

Nodding, he supplied, "The pool we fell into, it seemed enchanted in some way – Clara was convinced it was another portal." With an appreciative tilt of his head, he offered, "It's possible Pan's conceived a way off of this island."

"Pocket universe in a pocket universe," the Doctor allowed with a nod. "Incredibly dangerous, but it makes sense. A hiding place; also a trap," he glanced up at Hook, who was agreeing. "A trap he's set himself in, backed himself and his _boys_ into a corner in – also dangerous," he pointed. "A caged animal fights harder for its freedom; an animal who steps into the cage for the match expects to win – his arrogance may very well be his undoing."

Emma shrugged, "Wouldn't we also be an animal stepping into a cage expecting to win."

"Yes," the Doctor told her plainly, then shook his head, "_No_, we'd be the animals looking to take the bait out of the cage." Then he added to her confused expression, "Henry and Clara."

"So we, willingly, jump into the trap with a caged animal," Hook started slowly with a small nod of understanding, glancing to Emma.

"Do we have much of a choice?" Emma asked, "You said your Sonic thing wasn't detecting more than us, so this makes sense, more sense than incredibly hard to come by pixie dust – Pan moved them to another place. He moved Henry, and now he's taken Clara, to this other place and we've gotta go in after them."

"He did say Henry wasn't on this island," Hook informed her softly, "But even if they're just a swim away, we've no idea what lies beyond those waters."

"Again," Emma told him firmly, "Do we have a choice?"

* * *

Clara struggled against the strong arms that held her in place, grunting roughly into the burlap still pulled over her head and she kicked to her left, striking someone who shouted out. The voice was so young it hurt her, but before she could think to apologize, something round and hard plunged into her mid-section, dropping her to the ground gasping for air and wincing in pain. _Little son of o_…

"Hey!" Came an angry bark, "That's not how we treat our guests, Toodles."

"She was trying…" the other boy began.

But he was cut off sharply, "No, I said no. Not _her_."

It was Pan's voice, she knew, and she gasped when the bag was removed from her head, cool air a shock against the sweat that covered her face and neck. Clara found herself staring into Peter's eyes, genuine concern plaguing them before he hid the emotion away, smirking as he stood and nodded his head. The rough grip at either of her arms tightened and she was pulled back to her feet with a set of coughs as she tried to regain her balance before looking over the faces.

"You really are _just boys_," she whispered, inhaling deeply and grimacing at the pinch in her stomach.

They laughed.

"Lost boys aren't _just boys_," Peter told her knowingly.

She understood that he meant they'd been there a very long time – they had years of knowledge despite their youthful faces and she could see that, for most of them, it had hardened them. With a nod, she looked to the tall blonde at her left and then over at the pudgier brunette to her right. "Where are we going?"

"Through the rabbit hole," Peter offered, then his head fell back as he huffed a laugh and corrected, "Well, that's the wrong story, isn't it." He wagged a finger, "We're going through a portal, m'lady – just as you suggested to Killian you should."

"Where is Killian?" She asked boldly. "Where is the Doctor? Emma?" Then she shouted, "Where's Henry?"

Peter paced in front of her, occasional glances in her direction as he pressed his lips together and told her coolly, "Always lots of questions from you, Poppins."

With a shake of her head, she asked, "Aren't you going to answer them?"

He stopped, coming towards her with a nod to each of the boys at her sides and they released her just as Peter slipped an arm through hers at her right, leading her forward. "_Killian_," he began pointedly, "Has gone back into the jungle to find the Doctor and Emma and soon enough they'll come back here," he gestured towards the lake that stood before them. "Henry's safely sleeping in his bed, though I imagine by now he's awoken to question the whereabouts of his mother."

"What?" Clara managed, turning slightly and seeing the gang of boys watching to make sure she didn't try to run and she was certain they knew how to use the weapons they carried.

Peter reached the edge of the water and smiled up at the small speckles of light beginning to swirl at its center before he lifted his other hand to lay on Clara's arm, giving her a reassuring pat, "Wasn't interested in the boy and I got so much more than I bargained for." He gave her a knowing look that chilled her heart just before the swirls of green rushed towards them and he yanked her forward into the thick of it with a laugh as Clara screamed.


	10. Chapter 10

They reached the grassy shoreline that rounded the lake and Hook thrust a hand out to stop Emma from jumping straight into the whirlpool of gasses and sparkling dust that pulsed out from the center. She turned to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he understood the desperation there – the knowledge that her son could be just one leap of faith away, one she was more than ready to make – and he nodded, giving her a sigh and a raised palm of patience.

"Doctor," Hook called, turning to see the lanky figure looming just beside him, "Your wand – you've been using it to detect things, I take it?" He waited for the bob of his head. "_Detect_," he gestured forward with a nod.

Hand jutting forward, green light lit and buzzing, the Doctor flipped it back and glanced at it, then up at the duo who were watching him with anticipation. "Same substance that drew the Tardis in," and his lips lifted momentarily into a smile thinking about the blue box that seemed a millennia away. He pocketed the Sonic and stepped back before rushing forward, jumping towards the expanse of twinkling dust as Emma shouted out in surprise.

It was like floating into a cool breeze and he felt his body go weightless for just a moment before there was a plunge into an icy pond that bubbled up around him with the force of his fall. And he realized quickly he was actually in water, limbs uncoordinated in the murky substance as he struggled to find his way to the surface. As he broke, he gasped against the warmer air, glancing out over the waterfall and the darkening skies that opened up over them.

"Of course," he uttered, knowing that it only made sense that the portal would take them from one pond to another, and he swam awkwardly to the pebbly beach that rimmed the water. Behind him he could hear Hook and Emma bursting to the surface with strangled cries of confusion and he turned his head as his legs regained their footing, numbed by the temperature of the lake, to see them glancing about before making their way towards him.

"Looks like another island," Emma gasped as she lifted herself onto the shore and dropped down to wipe her hair away from her face. The Doctor could see Hook holding back a grin and a quip at the obvious statement and he shared the sentiment, missing the fact that Clara might not have.

In such a short time, he missed her so much more than he could have imagined.

"We should get moving," Hook offered, trudging up past Emma to get a better look at the jungle that now surrounded them, worry instant on his face as he realized that he had no idea of how to navigate this strange place. "Looks like, wherever we are, night has just fallen here." He gestured up at the lighter skies that were dimming by the second.

"Pocket universes, never know how _time_ is going to work," the Doctor cracked, helping Emma to her feet and frowning, "I seem to have misplaced my sword."

Emma and Hook both gripped theirs and Hook passed him a look of frustration, "Would you have used it anyways, mate?"

"Possibly," the Doctor grumbled, brow furrowing, and Emma watched him, knowing the word wasn't meant as a threat to Hook – who took it as such and was brooding in return – but as an admission that, _possibly_, for the small woman now in the hands of their enemy, this man might take up a sword against anything.

She glanced at Hook before landing a palm at his chest, an instant distraction from his anger as he shifted his gaze to her, and she jutted her chin towards the jungle. "We _should_ get moving."

They walked slowly, into the thick of this new place and Hook passed a glance back at the Doctor, who had gone back to scanning in every which direction. "He like this all the time?" He hissed sideways at Emma.

With a grin and the rise of an eyebrow, she admitted quietly, "Basically, yeah."

He rolled his eyes in response. "Quite insufferable."

"Not so bad, actually," Emma defended.

"Well, his companion was a mite feistier," he replied. "Lot less sullen. _Enjoyable_, even."

She glanced at the grin that tainted his lips and asked, "You sound quite taken."

Hook shifted slightly, beaming down at her. "Do I detect the slightest note of jealousy in your tone, Swan?"

And with the smirk he gave her, she realized he'd goaded her and she'd fallen for it. Chuckling, she told him, narrowing her eyes, "You know, sometimes I think you and Pan operate from different pages of the same book."

"How so?" He questioned honestly.

"You both like to ensnare with words," she groaned. "You take great _pleasure_ in getting a rouse out of the people around you." She pushed him when a small laugh escaped him.

He nodded, considering it before flashing his teeth in a devilish smile, "Yes, but you fancy my…"

"Boat," the Doctor shouted, bursting between them and rushing towards the old shipwreck in the middle of the jungle with a bewildered, but pleased look lifting his features as he clamored through a hole in the hull. He jumped back out, hands clasped together, "Doesn't look like Pan's hideout, no signs of life inside, but at least it's something."

Emma raised a hand and shook her head, "It's a boat."

"Yes," the Doctor exclaimed.

"A boat in the middle of the jungle," Emma added, head dropping slightly.

"I do love a shipwreck," the Doctor told them, hand patting the wood at his side before lifting his hand away to wipe against his thigh with a nod, and his face dropped, "Hang on," he turned.

"Yeah," Emma gasped.

"What the _bloody hell_ is a ship doing wrecked in the middle of an island?" Hook called.

The Doctor shifted away from it, coming to stand next to the duo both staring up at it and he smiled, "One impossible place to another." He then steeled his expression, "Might find something of use in this heap." He moved forward again, into the broken hull with purpose and Emma and Hook exchanged a look of worry.

"I think he means weapons," Emma offered.

"We should, maybe, go in after him," Hook told her with a wrinkle of his nose and a nod.

And they entered the ship with one last glance up at its name, The Black Rock.

* * *

Clara found herself sitting at the edge of a bonfire, watching the boys who danced around it, passing quips back and forth, occasionally glancing down at her to laugh. She wouldn't quite describe what she was feeling as fear, but more of an apprehension crawling just under her skin. They hadn't made any efforts to tie her down, or restrain her in any way, other than the fleeting glances that reminded her that they outnumbered her and could easily overpower her. She fumbled with her hands in her lap, then straightened her skirt over her thighs, fingers absently plucking at the stockings she hadn't removed that were now making her legs itch.

"Here," Peter called, bending next to her and handing her a hollowed coconut filled with an odd assortment of fruit chunks. "You must be famished; have something to eat," he nodded, waiting for her to take the object from him and she settled it in her lap, poking at the contents. "I didn't poison it, if that's what you're worried about." And he laughed easily, calmly – nothing like the devious laughter of before, the laughter aimed at Hook.

Clara watched him a moment, really able to take him in now that he wasn't pacing and wielding wordy threats at her and Hook. He wasn't handsome, he was actually rather awkward – that awkwardness of a boy stuck in transition to becoming a young man – and he sat next to her on the log, smiling to her honestly. She didn't understand why it unnerved her more than his previous stares, the ones with the threats behind them and the darkness that chilled her heart. He was relaxed.

Almost… _at ease_.

"You're not quite yourself when you're with friends," she offered, picking up a piece of golden fruit and pushing it hesitantly into her mouth to find it was mango.

He shrugged, "Maybe I'm absolutely myself."

She watched him as he stared at her, some unasked question lingering in his eyes as she continued to delicately eat, chewing slowly and shifting her gaze back to the boys who let out a round of squeals as one did, what Clara understood, was an impersonation of Hook.

"Clara, you don't have to be frightened here," he told her.

Laughing gently, she turned and spat, "You threw a bag over my head, dragged me through a jungle, and tossed me into a whirlpool," then she added with a tilt of her head, "And we won't get started on the shadow that snatched me off a ship, or why we're here in the first place."

She looked over the boys again and he sighed, "I told you, he's not here."

"Then where is he?"

"You think I was lying when I told you he was still in his bed?"

"Emma said you took him," she informed him. "I think I'm quite within my rights to believe her over you at this point."

He smiled, turning and nodding to her before pressing his elbows into his knees. "It's a game," he gestured out, "It's all a game," then he looked to the ground despondently, "It's always a game."

There was a sadness that overcame him then and she got the impression he'd grown bored of the game. Clara wondered just how old he was; how long he'd been playing with these boys on this island and it struck her that he possibly wasn't that dissimilar from the Doctor. Wasn't he too playing at a game? Travelling the universe in a stolen Tardis looking for his next playmate? Her head lowered as she considered it, she was just a playmate, just until he grew bored and longed for a newer shinier model.

Was that all she was to Peter as well? He'd played this long game with Emma and Hook before, she knew, and he'd brought her back to Neverland with the threats against her son, but it was the same game as before. Clara and the Doctor were new and Clara had become the new game. She watched him, considering that this sudden serenity was part of that – part of his game with her; appealing to her nurturing side to garner a reaction he could use against her and she sighed.

"You're allowed to stop playing," she told him firmly. "Allowed to _grow up_. It's alright to."

His eyes were swift on her and again, there was that inkling – _that something he wasn't telling her_ – as he nodded and admitted, "Someone else told me that a very long time ago, and do you know what happened?"

There was a moment, a very long moment of silence, where they stared at one another before Clara asked quietly, "What?"

He grimaced, his lips curling angrily as he spat, "She lied to me."


	11. Chapter 11

Hook held Emma back as he entered through the large hole in the side of the hull, glancing around at the fallen planks and the storage containers tossed about, as though they'd been rummaged already, and it gave him a tingle that burned his spine because he knew whatever they could find there, chances were the Lost Boys had found it as well. And anyone else who resided on this island. Turning back to give her a reassuring smile, he quickly shifted his gaze to the Doctor, pushing open a box in a corner with a satisfied humph as he allowed his own face to crumple with understanding: this was dangerous on a whole new level with this madman bustling about.

_Who opened an crate marked "_Explosives_" on a ship crashed in the middle of the jungle_?

Clara had been absolutely right about him.

The Doctor swooped his Sonic over the contents and then nodded back, "We can take a few armloads, or find something in which to carry them and then…"

"Uh," Hook managed, lifting a hand quickly as the Doctor shot his into the crate, "Don't!"

Freezing, the Doctor turned, eyebrows rising before he smiled, "Don't?"

Hook couldn't even crack a joke as he tilted his head slightly and winced, "I'm going to wager those have been sitting out for some time – _this environment_… not entirely safe."

"They're explosives, of course they're not _entirely_ safe," the Doctor replied quickly, then asked to the look of terror on the other man's face, "Why are these, _specifically_, not safe?"

With a nod, Hook spat back, "Conditions mate, they could explode at the drop of a hat – and when I say the drop of a hat, I mean that somewhat literally."

Eyeing him, the Doctor withdrew his hand and frowned, "We could set diversions with these. We could rescue Clara and Henry using them. We could…"

"_Not_ touch them; find another way," Hook supplied quickly, moving closer to lift his hand and gesture at the Doctor to back away, but the man remained, frown now set on his pressed lips. "Doctor, it really isn't a good idea."

There were few looks in the universe that could get the Doctor to change his mind, looks that carried with them a weight of both emotional and intellectual turmoil. Right now Hook was seeped in one of those looks, eyes widening slightly as he waited, breath held. With a rough sigh, the Doctor turned away, muttering a quick, "You're right."

Emma shifted back and let out a huff of laughter, "And we finally agree on something."

Glancing around, the Doctor tossed his Sonic from one hand to the other and told them absently, "Looks like an old slave ship – don't know how it got this far inland," he cocked his head sideways, "Maybe a tsunami, a tsunami within a hurricane, maybe," he pointed at them, "Magic."

"Getting more accustomed to the idea of magic?" Emma offered with a smirk, working her way around the room and lifting a set of shackles off the ground and letting them fall back with a loud set of clangs. She glared at the skeleton that had been left tied to a post, neck awkwardly hung, and she grimaced.

The Doctor lifted a hand absently, "Accustomed, possibly – more likely it's just a fun way of explaining away the things we don't understand."

"You got an explanation for pixie dust?" Emma challenged.

He glanced up at her, "Hyper radicalized solar particles."

"What's that?"

Shrugging, he admitted, "Dunno, just made it up," then he spat, "No, I don't have an explanation – yet. Magic is _impossible_. It's obviously a wormhole of sorts, opened after you landed, who knows how long it'll last. Same as the whirlpool on the ocean – wormhole, not pixie dust."

Hook snorted, gaining a smile from Emma, and he moved to a ladder and gestured up, "I'll search out the ship, make sure there aren't any Lost Boys lying in wait – and it might be good to have a bit of a rest," he glanced at Emma, seeing the exhaustion in her body despite her attempts to straighten.

Moving towards him, the Doctor agreed, "See if I might get another sword?"

Hook laughed, "Don't think a sword would be a good fit for you."

"Suppose your right," the Doctor replied, watching him climb upward before moving back through the hull and finding an old sword anyways, lifting it into his hand delicately and glancing towards the gaping hole in the ship's side. He sighed and stepped outside of the wreck, feeling somewhat claustrophobic in the damp environment and a bit wrought with nerves he'd never felt before.

"That thing's rusted," Emma told him, "You probably shouldn't mess with it."

"Rust gives it a good color," he replied plainly, continuing to walk towards the jungle a moment so he could get another read. It was beginning to feel futile. Everything in this place felt futile. All leaves and rotting vines and no computers or corridors – he certainly was out of his element. The Doctor smiled, Clara would tease him about that, if she were there. He sighed, seeing the spot, out of the corner of his eye, where she'd normally be smirking up at him, and pocketed the Sonic.

Feeling Emma on his heel and he turned, glancing at her in surprise. "Shouldn't you be," he gestured back at the Black Rock, "You know… not wandering off?"

She rolled her eyes, "Hook's not the boss of me."

"Didn't mean to imply that was so," he sighed sadly. "But you should go to him. Might be a good opportunity to get closer – one never knows which breath might be their last," he smiled, nodding to the ship, "Go on, I'll be alright out here. You two could get some rest; I'll wake you in an hour or so."

Emma stared at him, standing awkwardly just beside the shipwreck with the sword held loosely in his hand as he stared up at sky. Taking a step towards him, she asked cautiously, "You tell me to trust him, to have faith in him, get closer to him… why do you keep telling me these things?"

Head dropping, he grinned at the ground before bringing his sad gaze to her to admit, "Maybe I'm compensating."

"For you and Clara," she understood.

He lifted a hand, palm opening, before he told her, "I trust her, I have absolute faith in her… I just…" he trailed, mouth hanging open a moment before he shook his head.

"Can't get close," she told him knowingly.

He glanced up at her again and sighed, "I don't know how to."

Emma huffed a laugh and offered, "Don't know how to break it to you, buddy, but it doesn't take much effort."

"Doesn't it?" He smiled.

She shook her head, "No, just… she's followed you in a wooden box into space, I don't think it would take much for her to let you into her heart – I'm gonna bet you're already there, you just have to let her into yours."

Releasing a sigh, he explained, "The life of a Time Lord isn't one that easily accommodates love."

"True love accommodates anything," Emma replied quickly, thinking of Henry and how much he would appreciate those words escaping her lips.

And the Doctor wore the boy's satisfied grin for him as he nodded, telling her plainly, "Spoken as one who knows all too well."

Cocking her head, she shrugged. "My parents are Snow White and Prince Charming."

He nodded and responded, "You know what I mean."

On a sigh, she turned back to the ship, "Yeah, I probably should rescue him from his thoughts."

The Doctor nodded, looking back out to the night sky.

* * *

Peter Pan had left her alone, sitting by the bonfire, but she could feel his eyes on her as he danced around it with the other boys. The occasional hand brushed her shoulder, but she didn't budge, not wanting to let them in on the fact that she was properly terrified. The two children back home had played a similar game when she'd first arrived – after they'd dealt with their sadness, they became overwhelmed with anger and they directed it at her. Why had their father allowed her to stay in their home? Why had he chosen _her_ as a substitute for their mother?

She was sure she'd yet to convince them she wasn't a replacement.

How could one so easily replace a mother?

"Clara," someone called.

Turning and glancing at the boys who laughed and hopped about, she frowned and sighed, holding Peter's gaze through the flames as he smiled at her, lifting a flute to his lips to play. She listened to the silence that emerged amongst the crackling of fire and the stomping of feet and clasped her hands in her lap around the empty coconut shell. They all shouted her name at once and she jumped in spite of herself, listening to their laughter.

"Peter, _can she tell a story_?"

"Peter, _can she mend a wound_?"

"Peter, _can she dance_?"

"Peter, _make her sing a lullaby_!"

The questions were shouted, taunts launched in her direction and Peter's jaw clenched as he watched her react to each one with frustration. She wanted to run, but she knew it was pointless, seeing the spears in their hands and the sentries on guard around the camp. And then she felt a hand slip into hers and yank her from the log, pulling her into the dancing circle and dragging her along as they laughed around her.

"Stop!" She shouted, trying to tug her hand away, but the fingers were stronger than her own and the face hidden behind the mask looked back at her in amusement. "Stop it now!"

"Careful boys," Peter quipped, "Mother's angry."

"Will she spank us," came a young voice on a laugh.

Peter paced behind the dancers, watching Clara round the bonfire for a second time, eyes darting about in cautious fear. He reached out quickly, arm slipping around her waist and he pulled her free, holding her apart from the boys to gauge the panic in her eyes, but she only stared at him, resolve as strong as ever and he shifted back, fingers lingering at her side.

"I've played these games before," she told him coyly.

"You _have_," he nodded.

"You don't frighten me," she growled.

"Don't I?" Peter smiled.

"You're just a boy."

"I AM!" He shouted in her face. Then he stepped back and gestured at the others who had stilled to a stop around the fire to watch them. "Aren't we all?"

She looked to them and shook her head, "You're not Lost Boys, you're lonely children without homes."

"Isn't it quite the same, _Clara_?" Then he tilted his head at her, "Are you not the same?"

Clara smiled angrily, "You think you're quite clever, don't you, Peter."

He bowed.

"But you're so unloved."

He inched forward, drawing his sword and forcing her into a tree and Clara felt her back press into it roughly as the blade settled against the skin at her neck, "Little girl who wanders the skies, what are you running from?"

"I'm not running from anything," Clara rasped.

"You _aren't_?" He huffed, lips spreading into a grin. He shifted the sword and whispered, "Mum and dad not around, the children you serve don't really _need_ you – do they, _Clara_? And a mad man, a man whose intentions you question _every day_, shows up at your door and you run with him. Seeking adventure and attention." He glanced at the boys watching them, lips coming back just over her earlobe. "Really now, _are you not the same_?"


	12. Chapter 12

"Don't they look quite frightened," Peter continued softly as Clara tried to control her breathing, mind consciously rejecting his words because she knew his ploy. "You should calm them, _mother_ – tell them a story."

Taking a step back, he smiled at her, calmly, as though nothing had happened, and Clara's head gave a small shake of disbelief. This was not the Peter Pan of her childhood; this was the Peter Pan of nightmares, and she was certain she would have them for years to come. One day, she thought sadly, if she had children, they would pick up the book at a store and she would toss it from view at the memory of this moment of him staring blankly into her eyes after having threatened her life.

"Come on, Poppins," he pleaded, arm coming out to gesture to the boys standing quietly around the fire, "I'm certain you have a never-ending bag of tricks from which to choose… entertain us."

"Yes, mother," someone whispered, and she watched as the boys with masks removed them, staring up at her with an odd longing she understood. They could say a thousand times that they didn't want parents, but deep down, they longed to have ones – ones who wanted them.

"_Play the game_," Peter hissed at her hesitation.

She nodded slowly, turning to take several shaky steps towards the fire that continued to rage in the darkness of the jungle. Aside from the crackling and the occasional grunt of a frog somewhere in the night, it was deadly silent and she looked from one young face to the next, nodding again and asking politely, "How shall I _entertain_ you this evening?"

Pan flashed a grin and came to stand next to her, "You do have a penchant for storytelling, do you not?"

"Not quite as elaborate as yours, I'm afraid," she quipped in response.

"Oh," he tilted his head towards her, "I'm certain you'll do just fine." Then he looked out at the Lost Boys, "Questions for mother?"

She gritted her teeth at the word and listened to the deafening stillness that greeted her ears. And then one boy asked loudly, "What's beyond Neverland?"

Peter turned his head quickly, a bolt of anger striking his face, and Clara understood – they weren't to ask such a question because it suggested they might want to know of something other than this land. It suggested they might want to leave and she knew, looking at the young man beside her, leaving wasn't an option he allowed.

"There's a world," she began, voice quivering. "There are worlds upon worlds."

"What sort of worlds?" Someone else inquired nervously.

Clara smiled shyly, "Well," she considered, "I've been to a world that was entirely an amusement park, until an army of robots destroyed it."

Pan's eyes trailed slowly back to her and she saw the curiosity there. The _question_.

That look irritated her because it was the most honest one he'd given her and he'd given it to her thrice in the same night. As though there were something plaguing his mind and she knew why she hated it – the Doctor had given her the same look on many of occasion, when he thought she hadn't seen.

"What sort of robots?"

"The sort who captures you alive to use you as spare parts for their damaged units, or stuff you inside of a shell alive to be _upgraded_ – they make you like them because anything else is seen as less," Clara eyed Peter until he looked away and she raised her head slightly in victory.

"Did they try to make you like them, mother?" There was concern in the cracked voice that amused her and she wondered just how much of Peter's antics these boys were privy to. Did they understand she'd been brought against her will and was being held hostage?

Clara chuckled, still watching Peter out of the corner of her eye as he listened. "They did," she allowed, "They wanted to, but I had one great advantage," she watched their faces and the intent with which they listened to her. "I had a true friend fighting for me and he won – _he makes a habit of it_, actually."

"Who is he?" Felix demanded, grip on his spear tightening. Clara didn't like the look on this one – of them all he seemed the most like Peter, that same rage scaring his puckish face.

She smiled, "Sort of a Lost Boy, like you. Lost his home and his family and he's been left drifting through the stars, searching out the universe for problems to solve and people to save… he's _rather good_ at saving the people he _loves_."

Peter turned swiftly to meet her gaze, to accept her challenge. Because she burned him with the look she gave him – she could see it on his features – with the assurance that her Doctor was out in that jungle and he would stop at nothing to save her. And that while Peter was surrounded by his band of Lost Boys, he was alone. He would always be alone while Clara had the Doctor. She gave him one small nod of her head, and she knew he could read the unspoken threat: _you will lose_.

* * *

Emma climbed up the ladder and found herself on another level of the ship. This one was certainly larger than the Jolly Roger, she considered as she glanced around at the half rotted boxes, cobwebbed over and littered with settled dust. She imagined how much effort it would take to get a ship of this size hoisted up and into the middle of an island. Another fairy tale for another time, she understood with a half-grin, climbing up another set of steps to the deck where Hook was using his telescope to look over the jungle.

"There are the remnants of a statue, just on the shoreline," he told her, voice somewhat amused, without glancing over as she approached. She was surprised he had heard her coming, or had become so accustomed to her presence that the absence of it had palpably disappeared when she'd arrived?

She huffed out a breath at the fleeting thought as he turned, repeating at him, "Statue," before she added sarcastically, "Hope this isn't the planet of the apes."

Hook gave her a curious stare and shook his head rather than ask the question, and then handed her the telescope, telling her plainly, "Don't see a sign of Pan's camp. I expected to see black smoke from the fire – the boy does love a good bonfire – but the forest must be too dense, dispersing it before it can rise above the tree line. And in the dark of night… even harder to distinguish."

With a nod as she looked out over the trees, Emma frowned, gripping the edge of the boat with her free hand before turning to Hook, "Last time, he managed to convince Henry…"

"Emma, don't worry – the boy is brave, he's strong. And now he has Clara on his side. She'll assure him we're on our way – that you're on your way." He smiled at the flicker of hope that lit up her features before stepping closer and nudging into her side to finish, "He'll be fine."

With a sigh, she turned away, "I'm concerned about the Doctor."

"Why's that?"

"He's in love with Clara," she told him bluntly.

Hook choked back a laugh before telling her, "How's that cause for concern?"

She gestured back, "You saw how he nearly got us all blown up grabbing for the explosives; how do we know he won't do something else insane trying to save her?"

"Firstly, I get the impression that he's a man of impulse on any given day for any offered reason," Hook stopped to watch Emma nod in agreement before continuing, "And secondly he stopped, because at the core he's of a sensible mind." With a shrug, Hook offered, "If he is in love, then his heart will always be in the right place, Emma." He nudged her again, hand coming up to sweep her hair behind her left shoulder. "Besides, what's the harm in a man's occasional rashness?"

She turned to look at him, "The lives on the line?"

"Henry will be fine," Hook repeated, "Emma, he will be fine – Pan has no intentions of hurting him."

"No, just me," she replied gruffly.

"_Emma_," he repeated firmly.

"_Killian_," she sighed in desperation.

He held his breath a moment at the sound of his name on her lips, unexpectedly, watching her as she stared at him with concern paining her and he chanced to press his forehead to hers, giving her nose a small nudge with his own before whispering, "Emma, he will be fine."

She smiled, nodding against him, enjoying the stolen moment of intimacy, "It's just so soon after; Henry's been through enough, you know? He deserves…"

"A little tranquility?" Hook replied softly, lifting his head slightly to watch the conflicting emotions dance across her face as she avoided his eyes and then met them, swallowing hard and nodding as the tears welled against their rims. Hook could feel the pain and he sympathized with it – they all deserved a little down time after everything they'd been through recently.

"This is going to be Pan's game," she shook her head, "As long as he can travel between worlds as _frustratingly_ easily as he can – his game will be to torment me. And if it's not me, it'll be some other kid and that kid's parents." Emma sighed. "No kid deserves that."

With a nod, Hook agreed gently, "No, Emma, _no one_ deserves that. Not Henry, _or Clara_, or anyone else, but this place – his _magic_ – it's too powerful to simply defeat."

She chuckled, "It's too bad he doesn't have a dagger somewhere we could just use to control him."

"And you know as well as I that if that were the case, he'd have hidden it away," Hook supplied sadly, finishing quietly, "Where no one could find it."

"I could gut that kid," Emma groaned, reaching for the hook that rested against the railing at their side to lift it into her line of sight, studying it in her hand before starting to ask, "Have you ever…"

He raised his eyebrows and glanced away before sighing, "There's a reason _Captain Hook_ is not a _revered_ name in _any_ parts, Emma."

"But could you… could you kill Pan?" She challenged, and he was saddened by the sudden fire in her eyes as she waited for his answer.

With a nod, he replied by stealing a kiss, giving her a moment of peace lost in the gesture. Cradling her head in his free hand, he broke away suddenly, turning aside and feeling her breath on his cheek as he uttered, "If the heart demands it, I promise a moment of rashness."


	13. Chapter 13

Clara told them about the Crimson Horror, listening to their laughter at Strax's antics, and she watched their faces light up as she detailed the events of their time in the submarine with the Ice Warrior, and there was a hint of sadness when she told them about the ghost of the Caliburn house, and a groan at her declaration that it had been a love story all along. She spoke of Akhaten and of her mother, and explained how she badly burned her soufflés, and soon the boys around her were lying about, occupied with their own dreams.

Picking herself up quietly, she took two steps before she realized he was still awake. Still watching her from a corner of the clearing, tucked just beside a tree, and she turned to look at him. Peter hopped off the log he'd been perched on, arms uncrossing to drop at his sides as he looked over his Lost Boys with a grin of satisfaction and then aimed his stare at her as he came closer. Clara did her best to maintain a rigid stance, one that would defy the twinge of terror that pumped at her heart whenever they locked eyes.

Gesturing at the boys, he supplied, "You always were a good storyteller, Poppins."

She eyed him suspiciously and asked bluntly, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

He nodded, "That's who you are."

"My name is _Clara Oswald_."

"Your name is _Mary Poppins_," he spat, and then hissed, "I _know_ you. Don't think I don't know it's you."

"Never met you before in my life," Clara laughed lightly, head shifting away as he continued to stare.

Peter smiled innocently, but she could see the anger, just behind the eyes, as he settled his fingers against one another in front of him and pushed his bottom lip out before pointing at her with his hands, "Alright, refresh your memory then."

"Won't do a spot of good," Clara interrupted, "I'm Oswald; not Poppins."

Ignoring her, he told her, "Nanny, early 1900's, London."

"Not me, Peter," she repeated.

"Caring after the children," he continued, "_Always_ caring after the children."

"Not…"

"SHUT UP!" He called, and she looked over the Lost Boys as they continued sleeping before turning her attention back to the boy coming her way, "You always cared after the children, but not all of the children were cared for." He stopped in front of her, taking a breath and smoothing his features. "Some of the children came from homes without love, without affection or attention and you tried your best to alleviate that, but you and I – we're old enemies, in a sense. Lost a few children to my flute," he plucked the object from his waist and held it in his hands to show her. "But you used to hear it. _Somehow_ you heard it."

He played a few notes. Or at least Clara believed he had, because she heard nothing but the wind of his breath over the bamboo sticks and she shook her head, "I don't."

"_You used to_," he told her sadly, "You came, following them." Peter turned to the fire, "You came and you told them stories and you convinced them to go back to their homes, to their beds to appease parents that didn't deserve them – parents who _didn't want them_."

Clara watched him round the fire, checking on each of his Lost Boys, and she eyed the jungle, wondering how far she'd get if she just took off. The trees here seemed different from the ones in Neverland – and she was certain they were no longer there. They were lost. Truly _lost_ now. In a wilderness that carried a chill on each breeze and a whisper in the silence. Peter swiped his knuckle lightly over her left cheek, bringing her out of her thoughts, and she watched the easy smile on his lips – almost innocuous.

"We had many talks, you and I," he pointed to her, voice dropping, "You tried to tell me that I could have a home and I told you – time and time again I told you – my home was Neverland. I told you, Mary, you could have a home here as well."

"You tried to bring her here to care for you and the boys," she understood.

He smiled and shrugged, "You were nurturing to them, taking away that last bit of fear that they always carried with them. This could be a place of dreams again, without that…"

"They're still frightened, Peter."

He shook his head, "There's no need to be frightened here."

"There's every reason to be frightened here!" Clara told him firmly.

Watching her a moment, he took her hand and led her away from the fire, towards the woods where the only light came from the full moon overhead and the twinkling of fireflies. "You tried to tell me that you could give me a home where I could have a mother, where I might have a father, and where I could grow up in the assurance that I would never be alone. Where I would never…"

"…be lost," she finished.

He nodded, stepping away from her. She watched his back as he stared up at the trees, again surveying the area and thinking, if she could get a running start. This wasn't Neverland, the poisonous bushes wouldn't be littering her pathway and she might get far enough to hide and if she could hide, she could wait until daylight and find the Doctor. He would have come through by now, Hook and Emma would be with him. She could tell them Henry wasn't at the camp; Henry was safe at home. And they could leave.

_Go home_.

Peter stared up at the night sky and called, "And then you met some vagabond."

Clara considered, Mary Poppins. Mary Poppins was with, "Bert?"

"That his name?" Peter asked with a chuckle, turning slowly. "You call him _Doctor_ here. And he's just as taken with you as ever."

She almost laughed; they did fit the description, didn't they.

"And do you know what happened, Mary?" Peter shifted to look at her. "You stopped hearing my music and when it played for the children, you didn't follow."

"She couldn't hear the music because she was no longer lost," she uttered, the odd notion that the woman behind Mary Poppins, the story, could ever be lost – but she knew, from the boy in front of her, that the stories of her youth weren't necessarily the reality of the world.

His eyes bore into her as he told her, "You gave me a hope I hadn't felt in so long – _Never_," he looked away, as though he'd suddenly realized the fact, before he looked back at her, "And every time the children came I waited for you, _to talk to you_, to watch you comfort them and laugh with them and you just stopped coming."

Clara watched him as he seethed, turning away from her to close his eyes as she allowed, "I don't hear the music, Peter."

Shifting back in a snap, he spat, "Because you found a home, you found love." Peter held the flute in his hands, bringing it up to show her. "It's enchanted that way." Then he glanced up at Clara. "And since you couldn't account for the children's whereabouts, you were dismissed. And do you know what you did, Mary?"

Clara watched him with wide eyes, asking quietly, "What?"

"You didn't come looking for me," he shook his head, "No," he snarled before continuing, voice lowering angrily, "You simply… _moved on_. You abandoned the children in the cities for your own."

She shook her head and shouted, "Oi, _what_?"

He pointed at her with the flute and smiled, as though he'd caught her. "I found you, I searched for you and I found you, little bright-eyed boy dancing about awkwardly, _but happily_, in the garden and he couldn't hear the music because what you promised me? You gave to him."

"That wasn't me," Clara pleaded, shaking her head.

He moved forward swiftly, flute dropping silently onto a patch of grass, replaced by the sword that easily sliced at her forearm as she jumped away. Clara shouted out, hand held tightly to the wound as she fell to the ground and stared up at him, feeling defenseless. She had nothing to defend herself with but her limbs, and she scrambled backwards, grasping for anything – a rock or a large enough branch, but she found only moss and bits of sand.

"Peter, that wasn't me."

"You look like her; you speak like her; you even smell like her," he growled. "And when you look at me, you have the same intense _disappointment_ – it's you; she's you!"

Lunging forward, Peter dug the sword down and Clara screamed, feeling his weight drop onto her and she found herself gasping, crying, and she froze. The blade was embedded into the ground just at her side, pressed tightly to her body just under her arm and she grasped at the shoulders in front of her, pushing at them and looking up at the reddened eyes that spilled their own tears onto her temples.

"I'm not her," Clara managed.

"How can you not be her?" He implored, face crumpling in shock – frightening her more than his scowl and playful deviousness.

"I'm not," she repeated in terror as he began to sit up, straddling her, trapping her to the ground. "I'm not Mary; I'm just Clara – Just Clara!" She felt weak, listening to her broken voice barely escaping her throat as she watched him contemplate her.

"You're impossible," he breathed. He stared at her again and Clara took a ragged breath and tried to move, but he was holding her in place to continue studying, as though he might find something he hadn't before and he yanked the sword free from the ground, holding it tightly.

"Peter, please," she begged, hands held out between them and she could see them trembling.

"How can you not be her?" He asked.

She shook her head, "I'm not her, _please_."

"That man," he gestured, "He's not…"

"He's not," she cried.

"But he loves you," Peter bent lowly to tell her. "_You_ love _him_."

Clara couldn't help the small smile that lifted her lips. And she nodded, slowly. "And if you let me go, we'll just leave."

His eyes averted and she got the impression that, for the first time in a while, he was at a loss. Clara spotted the small bottle of dust hanging from his neck and she knew, instantly, that it was pixie dust – it had to be. Inhaling sharply, she reached for the sword with one hand and the bottle with the other.


	14. Chapter 14

Peter gave a shout of shock as her hand clasped around his holding the sword and the thin rope hanging around his neck snapped off in a quick jerk. He glared down at her as her thumb popped the top off, scattering a good amount of dust over her chest and then he laughed. Clara took a sharp breath, watching as he picked up the cork and pressed it tightly into the bottle, locking the remaining dust inside before grabbing hold of her other wrist painfully and snarling down at her.

"Poppins didn't need the dust to fly, you know – I never quite figured that trick out."

"Maybe she was a fairy," Clara sassed through her clenched teeth.

He shrugged, "And look at you, _Clara_, lost without a single happy thought – without an ounce of hope or faith because that's what it takes…"

She smiled, the Doctor's ridiculous face instant in her mind.

And they shot into the air in a puff of green sparkles that gave her a quick giggle and elicited a shriek of terror from the boy still holding onto her. Staring at her in disbelief, Peter shouted, "What are you doing?"

"Oh," she turned, looking out over the island and the stars before shifting her attention back to him and asking quietly, eyes narrowing mischievously as she pondered, "This not part of your game?"

"Clara," he glanced down. "Clara, if you lose that thought…"

"I won't," she nodded, satisfied grin on her face, "I won't because you're right – I love him."

* * *

The Doctor's head snapped up at the sight of the emerald sparks in the sky and he let out a quick shout of laughter, seeing the faint outlines of the two people tangled within it – one whose skirt fluttered in the night breeze – before rushing into the ship. He reached the top deck just as Emma and Hook were raising the telescope to try and get a better look and he cried, "It's her; it's Clara."

"It's also Peter," Emma told him sadly.

"No, but it's Clara," he laughed, gesturing.

Hook frowned. "Why're you so pleased, mate – you realize she's flying with the enemy?"

The Doctor nodded, "An enemy who hasn't a happy thought in his wretched body."

Emma's head came up slowly, understanding, "Peter's not the one flying, it's Clara."

The Doctor released one final guffaw and exclaimed to himself, "Clara's flying."

He shifted away as Emma raised the telescope again to look and brought it back down quickly. She turned to ask the Doctor a question and found the space behind her empty before gasping up at the mast the man was now eagerly climbing, Sonic clasped in his mouth.

"What the bloody hell is he doing?" Hook called.

Emma smiled, hopeful as she informed him, "He's her beacon."

With a small shake of his head, Hook told her sternly, "The wood's not exactly stable on this ship, if he puts too much weight on a rotting rung, he could go crashing straight through."

"He could set off the dynamite," Emma understood.

* * *

Peter watched her turn away, attention on the jungle around them and he knew what she was looking for, he also knew he couldn't let go. He released the hand at her wrist and brought it down roughly over her wound and they swooped downward easily as she screamed in pain, but then she stared up at him, fierce determination burning in her eyes as she tilted her head at him and asked him quickly, "Afraid, Peter?"

"To die would be an _awfully_ big adventure," he hissed.

She was tempted to let go of the hand holding the sword, but she knew he would take the opportunity to stab her before he fell, so she allowed them to dip slightly, watching his eyes stare into hers. Then she spotted it, out of the corner of her eye, a glowing green dot flashing in the distance, and she swore she could feel her heart swell knowing he was out there.

They lifted several feet in the air on the thought.

Peter gave a loud call that startled her. It was an odd set of rooster's crows before he shouted, "Lost Boys! To the Black Rock!"

The oddness of those words distracted her momentarily, but she knew whatever he'd said, it was some sort of code – some message to them about where they were going – and she had to beat them there to give them all a chance at winning. Glancing in the direction of the Sonic's flashing bulb, Clara set off towards it at breakneck speed, surprising even Pan.

She wished she could have said it was exhilarating, but it was somewhat terrifying, knowing who she was bringing with her and what he might do the second she let go of that hand with the sword. He thought she was Mary Poppins, who had burned him in a way Clara imagined had left him permanently damaged, and she wondered, eyeing the small grin on his face, if the other woman could have saved him. He seemed irreparably lost and broken.

"There doesn't have to be a fight," she called to him.

"Oh, there always has to be a fight, Clara," he replied calmly.

Taking a breath, she knew the best landing was a bad one, and she almost laughed when she realized she was heading for a large ship. A ship in the middle of an island, she thought to herself. Why not? She imagined the Doctor would have been pleased and she smiled at the thought, doing a quick spin in the air as they approached.

"_Clara_," Peter warned.

She held her breath and steeled herself against the fall just before they struck the surface of the deck, breaking apart and crashing along the creaking boards. From nearby she heard several shouts just before her back collided with and shattered the edge of the ship and she reached out just in time to clasp to the wood, wincing as it scratched her skin.

Peter rolled to a stand, sword ready, grin settled on his lips, waiting for the man who was making his way towards him with a scowl. "Another round, Killian?"

"Where's Henry?" Hook demanded, grimacing because he heard Emma draw her own sword and he lifted his hook in her direction to try and signal for her to hang back.

"He's not here," Clara cried as the Doctor pulled her back on deck. "Emma, you were right, he pixie dusted him, but he did it back home so you would think he was missing when he was in his bed all along."

Emma seemed struck by the words and she managed to mutter, "I came to this place for nothing?"

"No," Pan called, "You came to entertain me."

"Where's the Tardis?" The Doctor asked.

They seemed locked in a circle, all staring at one another and Clara told them quietly, "He told the Lost Boys where we were going; they'll be here soon."

"Where's the Tardis?" The Doctor repeated.

Peter smiled, then asked, "Big blue box? Made a boisterous _bwong_ when we go near 'er, so we left her in Neverland with the mermaids."

With a grimace, the Doctor looked to Clara, "He sank her in the ocean, which means she could be anywhere."

"HADS?" Clara questioned.

"HADS," he sighed.

Peter raised his free hand and jutted his sword at Hook, "So, old man, you going to fight for this lot, or will you make it a challenge – four against one, I _do_ like those odds."

Emma began to shout just as Hook rushed forward and his sword met Peter's with a series of loud clangs and sparks. Moving towards the Doctor and Clara, Emma pushed them further away and she moved to join Hook, surprised when Pan simply tucked a hand behind his back and dueled them both. Hook swung low and Peter kicked at the sword deftly while bringing his own sword up sharply to disarm Emma as her back slammed into the mast. Peter turned back to smile at the man who scowled at him as he rested the tip of his sword against Emma's throat.

"My _my_," Peter said quietly, "Always a pleasure, Killian."

"Let her go," he replied roughly, "Your fight is with me."

"Actually," the boy told him coyly, "I would say my fight is with everyone here." He looked to Clara, "You have the last of my pixie dust, Poppins."

"Don't give it to him," Emma called.

Clara held the bottle tightly in her hand and watched Peter press the sword into Emma's throat. The other woman could roll to the side, but there was no guarantee he wouldn't slit her neck in the process, and Clara took a step forward, seeing Killian shake his head as she approached, hearing the Doctor behind her repeating Emma's words.

"Let her go," Clara told him calmly, "Let her go and I'll give you the dust."

"Don't," the man at her left told her.

"Killian, let her play," Peter prodded, free hand pointing at him. He smiled to Clara, then nodded slowly and assured her, "Come now, Clara."

"Let her go," Clara repeated.

"Clara," the Doctor called, feeling helpless.

"Yes, Clara," Peter grinned, eyes softening. "You want to help me, don't you?" He sighed. "Oh, yes, quite interesting. After everything, _you still do_," he told her, laughing mutedly into the air.

"You can let her go," Clara nodded to Emma. "We've played along, haven't we, Peter?"

Peter pressed his lips together, then flipped the sword, as Hook inhaled sharply, to give Emma two taps on her shoulder and a nod to the Doctor and Emma moved away slowly, watching Clara. "It's been a good game," Peter agreed.

"And we can go home," Clara offered. "No harm done."

"Well, you see," Peter rolled his head to turn his attention to Hook. "There's still one little prize I've just been _dying_ to collect, and it's pounding just underneath that pompous red vest of his."

Hook raised his head slightly and nodded, "That all you want, Pan?"

"What?" Clara asked, voice barely audible.

Peter smiled deviously and in a flash, he lunged for Hook, hand prepared to extract his heart. But Clara shouted and jumped between them, gasping in shock when the fingers plunged easily through dress, bone, and skin and clasped around her heart. And with a vicious satisfaction, Peter tugged.


	15. Chapter 15

Clara heard the Doctor, Emma, and Hook all scream her name as her eyes closed against the action she imagined should end her life. For a moment she considered how the Doctor would explain it all to her father, to the Maitland's, _to the authorities_, and she managed a small grin. One that shifted when she felt the small pull of her body coupled with the gasp of surprise from the boy in front of her and when she opened her eyes, she chanced to look down at the odd image before her – the wrist shifting slightly in a glimmered circle at her chest.

"Oh, my stars," she sighed, feeling the fingers that palpated her heart before slipping off as Pan jumped back and pointed his sword at her as though she were some sort of weapon. Clara lifted a hand to her bosom and inhaled deeply; stumbling backwards into Hook's waiting arms.

"I've got you, lass," she heard him utter, voice overcome with shock.

"What sorcery – how…" Peter trailed, anger reddening his face. "_What_ _are you_?"

"The product of true love," Emma laughed, looking to Clara with a shake of her head.

The Doctor looked to Clara and offered a small smile. "Your parents," he understood.

"I don't understand," Peter spat, "How is that possible?"

"You can't take her heart because the love that made it was too powerful," Emma supplied.

Hook ushered Clara closer to the Doctor, to hand her over so he could raise his sword again, one last look of concern for the small woman who'd saved his life before turning with wrath to the boy who'd almost taken hers twice now. "You and me, Pan. Let's settle this… without magic."

Peter nodded, then shrugged, "Would love to, Kill… but it would seem the cavalry has arrived."

And on cue, there was a series of shouts and they turned in time to see several Lost Boys leap over the edge of the ship, all raising staffs and swords to fight. Clara gave a shout and backed away when Felix swung a staff at her, grinning devilishly as he threw off his hood just before a barrel cracked over his head and Clara was left staring at Emma, who frowned at the boy and muttered, "You deserved that."

"How…" Clara started, but Emma was already pushing her away to begin fighting another boy, face wrought with dissatisfaction.

The Doctor was tangled with another, holding tightly to the boy's hand and he swung him hard against the edge of the ship, knocking the wind out of him and sending him toppling to the ground. "Clara!" He shouted, moving closer to her as they ducked blows and ran from children. "This ship is filled with dynamite!"

Somewhere Peter laughed.

"That doesn't sound safe," Clara responded with a shake of her head and a gasp when a tall boy came rushing towards her, arrow held tightly in his palm. She instinctively grabbed his hand and wrestled with him, but he backed her into the edge of the boat, and the age and rot was too much, they went toppling through the edge with a set of choked screams.

"NO!" The Doctor shouted, but he was left smiling as Clara lifted back up into the air on a cloud of green mist, the boy no longer in her grasp and she shook her head, staring down at herself – the dust was still working.

"Cheating!" Pan called, "Bad form!"

With a quick scrunch of her face in anger, she swooped in his direction and planted a kick into the back of his head before doing an uncoordinated flip in the air and landing against a tree with a grunt. Hook managed to swipe Pan's sword roughly, sending it clattering across the deck, but the boy rolled out of the way before Hook could strike him down and Peter reached his sword, rising with a smile and a bow to the pirate who rolled his eyes.

"Never were one for show, were you, Killian?" Peter quipped.

"I rather fancied the least effort involved," Hook replied.

They clashed.

"That's right," Peter nodded as their swords met several times roughly. "You do like things _easy_."

"I don't like your implications," Hook grunted as Peter looked to Emma.

Peter nodded, "We could settle this in a fashion more suitable to your current skill set. Bit of rum, quite a bit of rum, actually. And a heavy dose of destroyed families…"

"Or maybe," Hook shouted in frustration, "We could handle it more akin to your liking – babble mindlessly until I kill myself out of _sheer boredom_."

Hook shifted suddenly and brought his sword up, stabbing Peter in the left arm and gaining a quick hiss of pain from the boy whose eyes darkened as he stepped back and looked at the blood now soaking his garments. "Testy, Killian – maybe I _should_ start calling you _Hook_."

Emma bumped Hook's side and lifted her sword to Peter, uttering a simple, "There are too many of them."

Hook leaned into her with a sly, "Good job, pet, let the enemy know we're outnumbered."

"As thick as he is," Emma teased, "I'm fairly certain he can still count."

"Oh, would you two _please_ stop," Peter barked.

They shared a grin, both moving towards the boy, swords drawn to battle again as Clara watched from the tree. She looked over the boat for the lanky man who was struggling to hold his own in a battle against an opponent close to his height, but far more spry. Wincing, she watched him raise his sword several times against harsh attacks and she could hear the laughter coming from the boy he fought. Steeling herself to fly again, Clara felt, rather than saw, the green pixie dust re-activating around her, but then she also felt the tree shake and she glanced down.

It was Felix and he was smirking up at her as he gave the tree another kick with his boot before shouting up, "I heard a rumor Pixies don't like fire."

Clara glanced at the hole broken in the hull of the ship next to them and she shook her head, yelling back plainly, "That's really not a good idea."

But he was being passed a lit arrow by another boy and he grinned up at her as he lit the tree ablaze before settling the blazing item on a bow to shoot up onto the deck. Clara's mouth fell open, listening to the laughter below before she shot off the tree and into the air, and then flew onto the boat to lift the Doctor up just as the boy jabbed for his left heart.

"Oi!" The Doctor cried, "I had him right where I wanted him!"

Clara tilted her head to look down at him as she moved for a gentle landing, "If by _where you wanted him_, you meant, _about to skewer you alive_, then yeah, good job!"

Moving into the sky again, Clara surveyed the boat and made her way towards Emma and Hook, picking up Emma and getting a shout in her ear before dropping her into the Doctor's arms and rising up into the air once again. The front end of the boat was now entirely ablaze and the smoke was making it difficult to see. Clara coughed against the black mist now drowning her and she moved away, hearing a quick whizzing sound just by her head.

They were shooting arrows at her, she realized with a start.

"Clara!" She could hear the Doctor and Emma calling.

_The boat was full of dynamite_.

All she could hear in her mind was the Doctor's voice and she knew Killian was still on the deck of that ship, locked in a battle with Peter. She took a breath and moved out of the dark smoke knowing it made her a target, but also knowing if she didn't find the obtrusive pirate, she would be able to pull him out of harm's way. Clara felt a rock smack painfully into her shoulder and she fell several feet.

"Great," she muttered, looking down to find the boy at the edge of the boat, "Sling shot." She shrugged, "Better than an arrow," she surmised, swiftly moving down and catching him by the collar to drag him across the deck and over the opposite ledge, lowering to drop him safety to the ground.

The smoke was overpowering and her eyes watered, but she lifted higher into the sky, and she saw the glint of their swords clashing. She gave a flash of a smile and shot towards him, but just as she reached the boat, she was hit with a net and fell onto the deck with a shout.

Hook's sword was horizontal, hovering a foot from his own face, his hook serving as leverage against the blade to keep it from slicing his head, and Pan pressed harder, smile growing as it closed in. He could see the two Lost Boys still on the deck lifting Clara and untangling her from the netting they'd thrown up to catch her and he cursed her for returning for him – and he knew that's what she'd done.

_Foolish, impatient, kind hearted… woman_!

"Peter, we caught mother," a boy stated sarcastically.

"Put her in the brig," Peter growled, eyebrows rising quickly before lowering as he concentrated on putting more force into his sword.

"NO!" Clara shouted, "There are explosives!"

"Yes," Peter replied.

Clara shook her head, "The boat is on fire!"

"Yes," Peter replied again, more excitedly.

"We'll blow up, _boy_!" Killian argued, understanding dawning on him.

Peter pushed even harder, the blade now an inch from Hook's cheek as he turned his head and Peter whispered at him, slowly, "_Yes_."

Clara shook her head and she thought of the Doctor and how he'd figure out a way to save them all if this were some alien planet. If anything made sense. Or, rather, if nothing made sense in the way that it made sense to the Doctor. And she smiled, quickly doing a backflip into the air and over the edge of the boat and she could hear the two boys holding her arms scream in terror, sword and staff falling away. She took them to the ground and dropped painfully there so they would release her before she jettisoned into the air and landed quietly on the deck.

"I know you're there," Peter allowed.

"Peter, we have to get off this boat," Clara told him calmly.

He turned, sword shaking in his hands, and she could see the blood his left palm was leaving against the back of the blade. "Will you stay in Neverland with me?"

"What?" Clara gasped.

"No," Hook shouted.

Peter smiled, turning back to Hook, "Stay in Neverland with me, Clara, and I'll let them all go – Emma, the Doctor, even Killian, _Hook_, whatever he'd like to be called – they can all go home and you'll be safe," he turned with a nod, "You'll be safe with me. What do you say, Poppins?"

Hook's head gave a slow shake and she smiled politely at him before grasping the remaining pixie dust in her right hand and telling him sadly, "Peter, I'm _very_ sorry, but I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request."

In a swift move, she was in the air and back down again, her arms locking under Hook's before she shot upward as part of the boat crumbled, setting off the explosives several decks below.


	16. Chapter 16

Rising higher and higher, Clara stared up into the night sky, the stars twinkling around them and she glanced down, seeing Hook no longer staring at her, but searching those same stars, some small hint of a smile threatening to break upon his lips. And then he locked eyes with her again as she came to a stop, hovering there and taking several long breaths. He grinned easily then, nodding to tell her quietly, "It's safe now, Clara."

Looking below, she sighed as she saw the black smoke emerging from that island and she wondered just how high she'd gotten – she could see the entirety of it and the ocean that surrounded it. With a look out around them, she pondered, "You suppose we could just fly home?"

"Nah," Hook spat, shrugging against her before quipping, "And leave the Jolly Roger?"

"Oh," Clara responded lightly. "_Oh_, how are we going to get back to Neverland?"

Hook glanced around them, at the glittering green that sparkled out from Clara's body, "Seems we might have the means, but I'm going to guess Pan left himself and his Lost Boys an out in that same whirlpool." He exhaled a long breath and nodded out, "You fly amongst these stars in that box?"

"Yeah," Clara laughed. "Higher, even."

"You're quite the fairy tale pair yourselves, you know," he observed, chuckling up as she blushed.

With a smile of appreciation, she began to descend slowly, twirling lightly as she replied, "Like you and Emma?"

"Emma," he repeated the name on a whisper, head dropping, "I suppose." Then he glanced at her, "I'm a pirate."

"He's a Time Lord," Clara replied.

The man in her arms let out a hoot of amusement before exclaiming, "So the pixie _does_ fancy the giant!"

"And the pirate _fancies_ the princess," she retorted.

They dissolved into a quiet of understanding as the island came closer and closer and they landed in the jungle, not far from the boat that was fully ablaze. Clara could hear the Doctor calling her name and Hook could hear Emma shouting out for him – both voices shaking with an unspoken fear. Clara's feet touched the ground after Hook's and he turned to steady her as she smiled up at him and tilted her head to say, "Think we should let them worry a bit longer?"

"Perhaps," he replied coyly, "Of course, you've never been on receiving end of Emma's wrath." He moved to walk away before turning again and declaring, "The Doctor…"

"Oh," Clara nodded, "I'd get a hug that's just a smidge too tight."

He shook his head, lowering it before telling her, "Let's find them and get the bloody hell off this island."

Gripping the remnants of the pixie dust in her hand, she pressed her lips together and nodded, following him quickly through the now smoky jungle towards the voices searching for them. Clara reached out instinctively, taking hold of the silver hook that rose in her direction and they avoided two Lost Boys who came at them angrily, swinging swords with an elbow to one boy and, unfortunately, Clara's knee to the groin of the other.

"Sorry," she muttered as they continued on.

"You're apologizing to the boy who would kill you for fun?" Hook hissed.

She glared at him, then screamed when she ran flush into a large body, expecting to be stabbed or beaten, but instead Clara was lifted into the air in a crushing hug, feeling the lips that pressed into her hair and knew it was the Doctor. Laying her forehead against his shoulder, she resisted the urge to cry – she wouldn't dare – and gasped when she felt a hook catch her foot, lifting her head up to find she'd started to ascend again, the Doctor holding tight to keep from falling away.

"For once it's not the bloke uplifted by a happy thought," Hook teased.

Emma rolled her eyes and smacked the back of her hand into the man's chest, then urged the two now returning the ground, "We have to get back to that lake."

Clara held onto the Doctor as her feet touched back to the ground and she nodded, "The waterfall shouldn't be too far," she pointed.

They began to make their way in the direction she'd given them, Emma and Hook taking the lead – both holding swords aloft, just in case any of the Lost Boys were still on their tail. Looking sideways at the woman there, Hook shared a small grin with her, thankful she was unharmed, before asking, "Pan?"

"You'd think a boat load full of explosives would have done him in," she grunted, "But I saw him in the jungle rounding up the Lost Boys."

Hook growled.

"We can shut him in," Clara shouted.

"The pixie dust," the Doctor nodded, scanning it. "Maybe not shut him in, but shut him out…"

Emma rolled her eyes at him, then looked to Hook, "Can we?"

He laughed, feeling oddly optimistic as he looked back at the pair traveling with them. "Hold tight to it, Clara, we might be able to."

Seeing the clearing up ahead, Hook slid to a stop and looked down at the pool of water at the bottom of the drop and he glanced back at Emma who was slowing, and then at the Doctor and Clara. Emma glanced over the side and shook her head, "So we jump."

"We jump?" Clara asked incredulously.

The Doctor glanced down at her and asked, "The jump is your biggest concern?"

"That's right, Doctor, her biggest concern should be the fact that I'm still here," Peter growled.

They turned to look at him, Hook and Emma raising their swords. Hook shook his head, "The game is over, Peter – we've…"

"No!" Peter spat, "The game isn't over." He paced slightly, telling them quietly, "The boys have already gone through the portal, back to Neverland, and they're waiting for you there. You cross through, they'll have your heads."

Emma frowned at him, then looked to Hook, "Any chance they could have beaten us here."

"I suspect so," Hook replied.

Peter smiled, "Ah yes, Killian knows very well I might embellish, might twist a word or two to suite my needs, but I don't lie."

The Doctor looked to Clara and then at the swirling green in the waters below. "We don't go to Neverland," he suddenly told her.

"We go to an impossible place," she replied.

Peter's face fell slightly as he looked to them. "What are you two blathering on about?"

"Yes," Hook said, straightening as he inched closer to Emma.

The Doctor smiled to Pan, "Because this is Neverland, this is Storybrook, this is fairy tales and impossible things and I'm going to wager that portal isn't simply a portal to a singular place – it could be, with one's imagination, a portal to any place."

"Any place one dreams," Clara nodded.

"Any real place one _desires_," Emma clarified.

"Oh," the Doctor laughed, "Oh, that is clever." He pointed, "You'd like us to go to Neverland, wouldn't you Peter. Fall back into your trap by playing your pawns, but how's about we play by my rules." He nodded to Clara, hand coming up for her to take hold, "How about we change the board?"

"You can't change the board," Peter spat.

"The boy doth look a bit distressed, Doctor," Hook took pleasure in pointing out.

Peter stepped forward and the foursome stepped back. "What are you doing?"

"Going somewhere you won't know how to follow," Clara snarled at him.

The Doctor turned to Emma and Hook and nodded to Clara, who released his hand and smiled, nodding because she knew he would go first and she would trust him to be thinking what she was thinking, just as he would trust her to do the same. He reached out and clapped a hand on each of their temples, sending a singular thought, a visual cue, before pushing forward and flying over the edge of the waterfall with them, splashing down into the glittering waters below.

"Where have they gone?" Peter shouted as Clara remained, eyes fixed on him.

"Somewhere you can't follow," Clara told him.

He smiled, "I can find you."

With a nod, Clara admitted, "I'm fairly sure you could, if you wanted to. One day."

"Why are you still here?" He asked peculiarly.

Clara swallowed roughly, watching him as he studied her. "Sort of a curious thing, you and I, wouldn't you say? And Peter, it's actually possible – you know – that the Mary you met was, in some way, me."

"How…" he started.

"Funny story; _long story_…" Clara laughed, eyes finding the ground a moment before peering up at him and admitting, "But if that was one of my echoes you met in London, then whatever she told you, she was sincere – I was sincere."

He smiled, a sadness creeping onto his features, "Then would you still take me?"

The question emerged as a plea and it pained Clara to shake her head, telling him plainly, "Whoever you were when we met, in that other life, you're not that same boy – you're too forgone now for me to even consider giving you that option."

Nodding to the cliff side, Peter smiled, "Would the Doctor?"

She considered and then nodded, "He would, I think."

"But not you?"

"No," Clara managed. "Not me."

"Why not you, then?"

Taking another small step back, Clara smiled, "I know you too well."

Turning swiftly, Clara jumped and she felt Peter on her heel, knew if he hit the water at the same time as her – or managed to catch her – he would end up in the same place. So she thought about the Doctor, about the smile he would give her when he next saw her, and she felt herself fly upwards away from the water with the last remnants of pixie dust on her as Peter plunged past and after just a moment she finally fall.


	17. Chapter 17

**WELL now, the show certainly threw a few fun loops in there. I don't know where they're going with the Pan story on Once Upon a Time, but this will be my pretty little AU head canon. Thank you for reading this, hopefully it was a fun journey! :D**

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"Clara!"

The word was jumbled by the water in her ears and she felt strong arms hoist her up out of the pool to settle her down against the tile. She could hear his tempered breathing echoing in the space between them as she coughed and rubbed at her eyes before looking out around herself to make sure – absolutely sure – that Peter hadn't somehow made his way there. And then she laughed with him, looking around the room a moment and just as soon as she was about to gasp that it worked, the Doctor's lips met hers unexpectedly.

Emma smiled and passed a look down at Hook, who was rubbing a hand over his hair, sending it up in every direction and she nudged him, sharing a grin of amusement before he offered, "Want to celebrate as well?"

She shoved him and rolled her eyes, pulling herself out of the pool, calling, "Um, Doctor?"

They stood silently before the man's head jerked up and he hummed his acknowledgement.

"Grateful for the pool," Emma started, slipping out of Hook's grasp, "But where are we?"

Clara took a step back knowingly as the Doctor rushed as best he could towards the stairs and moved up to stand with them, clothes dripping as he gestured around with his arms open and told them brightly, "This… _this_ _is my Tardis_!"

"Your Tardis is a pool, mate?" Hook asked, dropping his hands at his sides.

Clara moved up the steps slowly and nodded to the doors, "This is the pool in the Tardis."

"Wait," Emma said suddenly, "The blue box. This is inside the blue box."

Hook seemed taken aback as he pushed his hand through his hair again and his eyes went wide, looking around at the large room before moving to the door and stepping through, popping his head back in to say, "_This_ is your ship? This is your _ship_?"

Emma eyed the Doctor and then walked swiftly to meet Hook, looking out of the door and in either direction before turning back, "No," she said, head shaking.

"Yes," the Doctor replied, "Head left, follow the corridor. Should take you to the console – or the bridge, topside, I suppose – my deck, of sorts, with my helm, again, of sorts."

Clara followed him as the Doctor as he took several long strides towards the duo now perusing the hall. "You're just waiting for it, aren't you?" She teased. He shushed her.

"But," Hook turned, "So we're inside of the blue box?"

"We're inside of the blue box," Emma told him.

"You know you might not get it from them," Clara warned the Doctor quietly. He shushed her again.

They reached the console and Hook looked over the controls, mouth dropping slightly before he raised his hand to touch, immediately getting a small smack from the Doctor. Emma looked to the door, walking to them quickly to push them open and walk outside, out onto the deck of the Jolly Roger, where she did a round of the box and then came back in.

The Doctor nodded to her, leaned against the console, Clara in a similar position at his right; Hook pressing a hand to his mouth at his left. She pointed outside and then pointed inside and then did a circle. And then she laughed as the Doctor waited, anticipation on his face.

"Not gonna happen," Clara murmured. He shushed her a third time.

Emma looked up and told him with a nod, "Another pocket universe, right? The door is like a permanent portal?"

The Doctor's face dropped.

Clara laughed. She turned to the Doctor and asked him bluntly, "Where are we?"

With a finger towards the door, Emma answered, "Back on the Jolly Roger."

Hook's head came up quickly and he rushed past them and through the doors and Clara responded with a shift of her head up, "If we go outside and he's kissing the ship, please tell me you'll never let him live that down," she ended with a look to Emma, who snorted in response.

Unfortunately he wasn't, he was merely pulling up the anchor and readying for departure. The Doctor moved to stand next to him at the wheel and he gained a look of appreciation. "Your ship, mate? How did it get back here?"

With a nod to the blue box Emma and Clara were standing next to, the Doctor replied, "Looked for the closest safest place. Seems your Jolly Roger met those qualifications."

"Smart ship," Hook responded with a laugh.

Emma glanced up at the man at the helm and she smiled back at Clara, who was biting her thumb, smirk plastered on her lips. "Peter Pan could just come back through that portal, you know," Emma told her, "I wouldn't look so smug."

Clara nodded, then pulled the vial of pixie dust out of the right pocket of her skirt, handing it to Emma, "Then I imagine this would come in handy." She nodded, "Might want to figure out some magic to close that pocket universe…" she glanced up, "Actually, the Doctor might be able to help with that."

"Close a pocket universe," Emma stated, "He can do that?"

With a grin, Clara told her firmly, "He can do a lot of things."

"Yeah," she laughed, "He just can't believe in magic."

Clara nodded and supplied, "Sort of a man of science at heart, but I'm sure, given the right circumstances, he could come around – just might take a bit of time."

"Took my kid for me," Emma admitted with a knowing nod that burned Clara's cheeks.

They used the remaining pixie dust Hook had stashed aboard the Jolly Roger to open the portal back to Storybrook and when they pulled into port, Emma was not surprised to find her parents and son waiting, relieved expressions on the faces painted pink by the sunrise. She clasped Henry to her as soon as she moved off and the Doctor landed an arm around Clara's shoulder when they began to walk away.

"The boy we tried to save was safe all along," the Doctor laughed. "Happy ending after all."

"Not exactly," Emma turned to respond before telling David and Mary Margaret, "Pan was back."

Mary Margaret was nodding quickly and she allowed, "We know, we found the note he left on Henry's bed. Regina was trying to figure out a way to get back to Neverland."

"Regina?" Hook spat in disbelief.

And the frustrated voice growled, "Yes, at the request of my son."

Henry turned swiftly and breathed, "Did you find something?"

"It's not something they're gonna like," Regina responded with an eye roll towards the Charmings.

"If it keeps Pan from getting back to this town, I'm gonna like it," Emma told her quickly and Regina nodded automatically, lifting her palm to produce a purple mist that was immediately met with a buzz and a green light and the woman stopped, eyes finding the Doctor's.

She looked him over curiously before asking, "Who is this?"

"The Doctor," he told her with a smile, "And that, is unidentifiable."

"It's magic," Emma explained, watching him shift his eyebrows in amusement. "It's magic, your Sonic isn't going to register it, and I suggest you step aside."

"Not very useful this trip, are you Doctor," Clara teased.

"Oh, hush," he responded quietly, being pulled aside by Henry as Regina sent the purple haze into the sky.

David asked quickly, "What does it do?"

With a snarl, Regina replied, "Keeps that rotten brat out of Storybrook."

Taking a step forward as the winds began to whip about, Mary Margaret shouted, "But what does it do? Regina, we didn't discuss this."

"This isn't a town hall meeting over the color of fire hydrants, princess. This is about Henry's safety."

The Doctor shifted forward and whispered, "But what does it do?"

With a quick twist, Regina met him eye to eye and smiled, "It's a boundary meant to repel anything magical from entering Storybrook, painfully," then she let her head roll aside to look at the Charmings to add, "It won't kill anyone, so there's no need to break out the waterworks."

Henry shifted past Clara and nodded, telling her sternly, "Mom."

The woman released a sigh and told him calmly, "Henry, he'll just… bounce off… and that's only if he can even find the place."

"Perception filter," the Doctor shouted. They all turned to him and he laughed, "I get _this_ magic."

"The Doctor," Regina repeated slowly, "I don't think I've ever heard of you."

Clara eyed her a moment before stepping closer to the Doctor and whispering, "If I had to take three guesses, I'd say Evil Queen and I'd also say all's well and we leg it."

"Oh, relax," Regina muttered before turning to Henry, "Looks like the evening's free now that we're done saving the hot heads…"

"Hey," Emma shouted, Hook holding her back.

"What?" Regina spat, "If you'd come to one of us instead of running off with your new boyfriend, you would have saved us all a headache." She turned to Henry and offered, "Had breakfast yet?"

With a smirk and a shake of his head, he argued, "My mom just came back from Neverland, I think I want to hang with her for a little bit."

The woman nodded slowly, passing a glance to the blonde before telling him, "Ok, I'll see you later then."

Pointing between the two women, the Doctor asked, "Two mums."

"Long story," Emma sighed, before rubbing Henry's shoulder and telling them, "Breakfast at Granny's is actually pretty good."

"She's got hot cocoa," Henry sang with a smile as the duo began walking away, towards the Charmings, already moving cautiously down the street.

Clara turned as the Doctor's face brightened before looking to Hook. "Shouldn't you," she said with a nod towards Emma, "Catch up?"

"She's with her son," he told her, shaking his head.

With a smile, Clara offered, "And I'm sure he'd like to hear a good story from a… sailor." She waited, watching his eyes shift up to find hers, an odd smirk in the way he narrowed them at her before tipping his head to her and striding towards the woman and the boy.

The Doctor met Clara, taking her hand to begin walking towards the threesome and he pointed, "Snow White and Prince Charming." He beamed at her. "We're going to have hot cocoa and pancakes with Snow White and Prince Charming."

"And Captain Hook," Clara widened her eyes to tell him humorously.

With a grin, he corrected, "Killian Jones."

Clara laughed as they moved forward, giving his hand a squeeze, "You think they'll be able to keep Peter away from Storybrook with that spell?"

He shrugged, "They have the pixie dust now… the Magic," he finished on a laugh. "I'm sure they'll work out something."

She nodded, "Good." Then sighed, watching the boy that rushed towards them, thin lipped smile stretched across his face as he landed against Clara, arms wrapping around her midsection tightly before pulling away. "Henry?" She questioned.

"Thanks for saving my mom."

Raising a hand, the Doctor offered, "I helped too."

Henry laughed and gave the Doctor a quick hug before taking Clara's hand to walk with her, tilting his head and telling her quickly, "You know, I think I know you – I think you're in my book."

Clara huffed into the air and smiled down at him wryly, "Let me guess, Mary Poppins."

He seemed pleased, nodding, "I could show you!"

"We would love to see that, Henry," the Doctor told him happily, watching the way the words brightened the boy's face as he ran towards the diner.

"Sweet boy," Clara surmised with a grin. "Henry," she repeated thoughtfully.

The Doctor eyed her a moment before offering, "I think… we should see a planet – something innocuous, in your solar system… how about Venus."

Dropping her head back and then sideways to look up at him, Clara sighed, "After all of this, how about something normal – did I mention the Maitland's are on vacation in Italy this week?"

With a mischievous grin, the Doctor asked, "You're suggesting, what, _a night in_?"

Nodding, Clara explained, "Home cooked meal, a movie, nothing dangerous or fanciful..."

He pressed his lips together and looked out over the town. He supposed after all of this, it would be nice to not be in danger for a few hours. Glancing at her and lifting their hands together, he nodded and said softly, "After Venus."

Clara smiled, repeating slowly, "After Venus."


End file.
